Just Can't Let Go
by RedandBlack24601
Summary: Harry Potter was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, and finds himself in the afterlife, a perfect world of friends and family and happiness. But he can't seem to detach himself from the mortal world, where Voldemort still lives and reigns. Can he beat the odds, defy death and save his friends before it's too late?
1. Death

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings described in this story. This is purely for my own enjoyment, and hopefully, for yours.**

**A/N: Please read, Enjoy, and don't forget to review!  
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"Avada Kedavra!"

A wavering jet of green light burst from the tip of Voldemort's wand and flew the diameter of the Great Hall. It hit Harry Potter squarely in the chest and he fell, his wand half-raised, a silent curse weighing on his tongue.

Harry Potter saw the curse rocketing towards him, raised his wand a fraction of a second too late, took the curse directly on his heart and fell, the screams of his fellow students echoing in his ears. Then, an abyss engulfed him.

He woke up in an unfamiliar place. A warm pillow lay beneath his cheek, and he could feel fluffy blankets piled high on top of him. He opened his eyes, instinctively fumbled for his glasses and slid them on, and saw, on the far wall, a bookshelf, piled high with kids' books, and a miniature broomstick propped up against a wall. A basket of stuffed toys was overflowing in a corner. He heard a small noise from the other end of the room and tensed. The last thing he remembered was Voldemort firing the killing curse at him. Where was Voldemort now? More importantly, where was he, Harry? Slowly, he turned his head and saw a woman with long, deep-red hair and emerald green eyes smiling at him. Hardly daring to believe it, he whispered "Mom?" She smiled and nodded.

"Where am I?" he asked, feeling rather groggy.

"Home" she said, moving to sit on the end of his bed.

"What happened?" he groaned, rubbing his head.

"Voldemort won" she whispered, wrapping him in an embrace. Harry sat, speechless. All those years, he had fought to protect himself and others against the evil Dark Lord, and in that one instant, he had failed. Ron. Hermione. Neville. Luna. Ginny. All the faces he would never see again; all the people he would never fight alongside, or have fun with. He felt his lips tremble.

"I know. I know," his Mum soothed, as Harry fought to repress the overwhelming despair that rose up in him like a tidal wave "How about you come downstairs. There are some people there that want to see you." Harry struggled out of bed, and followed Lily Potter down the stairs. Around a circular table, talking and laughing were four very familiar people.

"Harry! Son!" James Potter called, striding up to him and giving him an enormous bear hug.

"James! Stop, you'll crush him!" Lily reproached, slapping James on the arm.

"Can't really, since he's already dead." James reasoned, but he released Harry nevertheless. Sitting to the left of James was Sirius.

"Sirius!" Harry gasped, throwing his arms around his godfather. Sirius returned the hug "I missed you!"

"And I missed you Harry" he grinned "It wasn't fair that you had to watch me die. We should have been together for longer, but all that's past now. We have all eternity before us!"

To Sirius's left were Lupin and Tonks, holding hands and looking much younger.

"He's got nothing to complain about now" Tonks said, grinning at Harry, then Lupin "He's not a werewolf here."

Lily pulled a chair out from the table and motioned for Harry to sit. He did so.

"So Harry," Sirius said, grinning broadly and rocking back on his chair "Got yourself a girlfriend, huh?"

"Sirius!" Lily exclaimed, shocked "Of all the tactless things to say!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Sirius apologized, holding his hands at shoulder-height in a gesture of surrender, but he raised his eyebrows at Harry all the same.

"How did you know Ginny was my girlfriend?" Harry asked.

"We were all watching your first kiss with little Miss Weasley. Very sweet, not too much tongue. You have a natural talent, my boy." Harry grinned in spite of himself.

"How were you watching me?" he asked. He couldn't see any way to make contact with the living.

"Would you like us to show you?" James asked, enthusiastically springing up from his seat. Sirius and Harry stood up just as excitedly. James led them to the front door and pulled it open. Harry, who had been expecting to see a snow covered street, saw instead the bright, cosy interior of-

"Dumbledore's office!" Harry breathed. Sirius grinned and ushered him inside, to where Dumbledore sat placidly, his fingertips interlaced, smiling pleasantly at them all. His office hadn't changed much. The Sorting Hat was conspicuously absent from its usual place and Fawkes's perch was empty, but all the little gadgets and knick-knacks were still there.

"Hello Professor," Harry said.

"Ah, hello to you too, Harry. Sirius, James, I hope you are well." They nodded in unison and nudged Harry forward slightly. "How's Death treating you?" Dumbledore asked, motioning for him to sit down.

"Fine thank you, Professor." Harry smiled.

"I suppose you want to see your friends?" the Professor asked. He looked alert and bright again, not like the tired and weary Dumbledore Harry had come to expect.

"Yes, please. Is that possible?"

"Of course." Dumbledore moved to a small cabinet and extracted a circular bowl that Harry recognized instantly.

"There are a few of these around. It works the same way as a pensieve, but instead of showing you the memories that the owner has decided to put into it, this shows you the events that are taking place in the world of the living. If you so desire, this will take you to wherever your friends and loved ones are." Harry edged forward eagerly.

"Go on then," Dumbledore consented, stepping backwards to allow him room. Taking a deep breath, Harry plunged his face into the murky gas-like substance and the next thing he knew he was falling, falling through a dense layer of clouds. He landed with a small thud on the floor of the Great Hall. Evidently, not much time had passed since the moment of Harry's death, for his limbs were still flopping on the floor from the impact of the fall. Voldemort, realizing what he had just done was smiling in triumph and was, almost tentatively, moving forward a few steps to get a better look.

There were terrible drawn-out cries from the crowd, but one sounded louder than the rest. The next second, Ginny was bursting forward, throwing off the hands that reached out to restrain her. She fell over Harry's body, sobbing his name.

"I'm right here, Ginny. Right here," Harry called to her, but she didn't even look up. Voldemort laughed as he watched Ginny's anguish. Finally seeming to get bored, his hissed "_Crucio!"_ Ginny was tossed onto her back. She writhed for a second, before scrambling upright looking distressed. Voldemort looked confused for a second, but let her be dragged back into the crowd by a few brave hands that dared to approach.

"The boy-who-lived is dead!" Voldemort proclaimed, his arms stretched out like an eagle "Now, there is nothing obstructing my path of domination! I killed Harry Potter!" For once, it was not hot-headed Ron, but calm, rational Hermione that lost her temper.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she screamed, ducking under another girl's arm. Voldemort deflected the jet of red light with ease and sent a curse rocketing back towards her. Hermione was unprepared and she crashed to the floor. Voldemort dragged her a little ways so she was lying at his feet. Hermione's face was grazed and she was covered in small cuts and gashes.

"Filthy Mudblood," Voldemort hissed down at her. Hermione lifted her chin proudly.

"Mudblood and proud." she retorted. For a moment, Voldemort looked like he might fly into a rage, but at the last moment, he laughed.

"Foolish girl" he smiled "Your kind are little more than accidents. Accidents that you inherited the magical gene, accidents that you were ever recognized and trained, accidents that you even exist!"

"My blood is purer than yours" Hermione retorted and closed her eyes, turned up her nose and remained silent. Voldemort made a face that was midway between a grin and baring his teeth. And then, Hermione began to rise. Voldemort was still pointing his wand at her, gritting his teeth, but Hermione was slowly but surely, as if rising through quicksand, getting to her feet. Voldemort lowered his wand, breaking the spell that was holding her down. Ron moved forward slightly and dragged her back into the crowd. Voldemort turned a drifted across the room, stopping at a thin, bone-handled kitchen knife that was lying by the body of a dead house-elf. He picked up the knife, and twirled it between his bony fingers. The D.A had formed a protective circle around Hermione, but Voldemort merely flicked his wand, and Dumbledore's army flew across the room, crashing on the floor. Hermione was left alone and exposed in front of the Dark Lord. Voldemort sent a curse rocketing towards her that sent her sprawling on the ground.

"Hmm… What to do with you?" he asked her, running the blade of the knife up and down her upper arm "You are just a filthy Mudblood, after all. Far too insolent for your own good." Then, almost absentmindedly, he dug the knife into the crook of Hermione's elbow. Hermione screamed and thrashed as her blood spilled over the blade. Voldemort extricated the knife from her arm, and wiped it on her clothes.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ron roared, throwing himself free from the crowd, his wand held aloft, the expression on his face leaving nobody in any doubt that he really meant to kill. Voldemort deflected the curse, looking up only for the briefest second.

"But, there is something I need to know" he mused quietly, returning his attention to Hermione "So, perhaps you are not entirely useless." Almost idly, he raised the knife again. Just then, Harry's world turned grey, like a mist was covering his eyes. Invisible hands were tugging at his wrists, his elbows and the back of his shirt. Then, he was flying through space, the image of Voldemort and Hermione growing fainter before his eyes. With a jerk, his feet landed on solid ground in Dumbledore's office. Harry gasped, and fell back into his chair.

"What… What…?" he stammered, too much in shock to be able to form a coherent sentence. And then, once he had regained his wits, he demanded forcefully, "I want to go back."

"No" Dumbledore said simply "Experiencing too much of the other world in one go, especially when that world is unpleasant, can drive one into madness. Perhaps tomorrow."

"But what will happen to them?" Harry asked, panicking.

"What happens." Dumbledore replied placidly.

"Don't you care?" Harry demanded in a raised voice that was perilously close to a shout.

"My dear boy, of course I care, but there is nothing you or I can do about it. I assure you, witches and wizards have been trying to do the exact same thing you want to do for centuries and none of them have succeeded in anything more than driving themselves insane with worry."

Harry considered sulking, shouting, violence, pleading and jumping into the pensieve before anyone could stop him, but he looked at the expression on Dumbledore's face, and the rebellious beast inside him was quelled.

"Come on Harry," James said gently, laying his hand on his shoulder and coaxing him from the chair "Let's go."


	2. Regret

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings described in this story. This is purely for my own enjoyment, and hopefully, for yours.**

**A/N: Here is the second chapter. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to review!  
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He led Harry out of the room, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. He pushed open the door and led Harry through. But what lay beyond was not the kitchen of Harry's house, or the spiral staircase that usually was outside Dumbledore's office, but the Great Hall of Hogwarts, teeming with people, all, when Harry looked closely, the deceased. Over in the corner, to Harry's delight, was an unmistakable mop of Weasley red hair.

"Fred!" Harry cried, running full tilt across the hall to where Fred stood.

"Harry!" If Fred looked surprised to see that Harry had died, he didn't show it "Have you seen George? Is he alive?"

"Yes." He decided not to add 'for now', but Fred seemed to be thinking it anyway.

"Hey, Harry" he said "If you see George here, at any point; send him this way will you? I'll be waiting for him here."

"Will do" Harry said, smiling halfheartedly. Just as he was about to say something else to Fred, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned around, and saw little Colin Creevey standing there, an expression of horror on his face.

"You died?" he asked incredulously "You're Harry Potter! How could you die?"

"Jeez Colin! How do you think?" he snapped, his nerves finally snapping. Immediately, he regretted it. "Voldemort's killing curse" he amended. Colin looked positively horrified at the thought.

"Hey, Harry!" a male voice called from the other side of the room. Striding across the Hall towards him was Cedric Diggory.

"Hey, Harry!" he waved "Over here!"

"Oh, hi Cedric!" Harry said, leaning forward to shake his hand "How are you?"

"Well enough. I'm waiting for Cho."

"Oh." Harry felt himself blush "Er…"

"No worries!" Cedric dismissed his soon-to-be awkward apology with a wave of his hand "I don't mind. Listen, thank you. For taking my body back, I mean. I really appreciate it."

"It was nothing. I'm really sorry you died. It was my fault. I should have gotten us both out of there."

"Nonsense. I was an idiot not to go back to the portkey when you told me to." Cedric dismissed his apology airily.

"That's what you're going to do, isn't it?" a gruff voice asked from behind. Harry jumped in shock and turned, to find Mad-Eye Moody standing there, looking as rough and beaten as he had in life, except, Harry noticed, he had a real flesh-and-bone leg instead of a wooden one. His magical eye was still in place though, whirling furiously around "Apologize to every person who died within a 200 mile radius of you?" Harry wasn't sure how to answer him. Moody rambled on without waiting for an answer. "It's my own fault though. Constant vigilance, I always said and then I went and let a killing curse hit me in the back. Well, I'd best be off. Hope to see you around." And he waved to Harry and left him standing there. Shrugging, Harry walked back through the Great Hall doors and found himself back in his parent's kitchen. Lily, Tonks and Lupin were huddled on the couch, their heads together, whispering. James and Sirius, who had mysteriously disappeared when Harry was in the Great Hall, looked like they were gambling. Harry sat himself down at the table.

"Sirius?" he asked. Sirius looked up.

"Yes Harry?" Sirius asked, laying his cards on the table.

"Why is it, when we open a door, it leads to a different place each time? How can that door lead to Dumbledore's office and the Great Hall?"

"Well Harry" said Sirius "This world isn't like the one you have come from. Space and time isn't the same. Things move around, things change. I don't know why it happens; I just know that it does. This is the afterlife. Expect some different things. After a while, you can control where you go, but it takes some practice." They sat in silence for a minute, before Harry, unable to control himself any longer beseeched "Can we please go back to Dumbledore's office. Please." James looked out of the window and sighed.

"Fine. We'll talk to Dumbledore. Heaven knows you deserve it, after what you've been through. I know Lily spent almost the first two years of her time here watching you." James rolled his eyes and grinned. Lily caught it.

"I'll have you know" she said indignantly "That whilst I may have watched you when you were a baby, James here practically stalked you through your third year. When you tried to kill Sirius, he tried to tackle you. When Snape got his hands on the Marauder's map, he was screaming and shouting and when you rescued Sirius, he was in tears. He didn't leave you alone for a moment. So _don't _make me sound like the stalker here James. What I did was called parenting. No parent in their right mind would tail their son around school for a year when he's thirteen years old!" Lily was shouting by now. James, actually looking rather scared, raised his hands in surrender, and hastily proceeded to lead Harry to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was scratching down something on a roll of parchment. He looked up as Harry entered and smiled.

"Back again, Harry?" he asked.

"We thought, since he's been through such a lot, that maybe he could use your pensieve. He's been through such a lot, we think he deserves it. He's not likely to be driven to madness after just one more visit, is he?" Dumbledore pushed his glasses up his long, crooked nose and sighed.

"I suppose so" he agreed, looking dubious "I still have my doubts, but there is no doubt, however, that he deserves it. Very well." He slid the pensieve out from his cabinet and placed it in front of Harry, who thanked him sincerely and dove in. He was falling through a thick layer of grey clouds that were spiraling into shapes. He landed less gracefully than he would have liked in what seemed at first glance to be some sort of dungeon, one, he realized upon closer inspection, in Malfoy Manor. Green pillars lined the room, concealing at first glance, five shapes slumped against the wall, chained by manacles that were embedded in the wall.

Hermione and Ron sat together, their hands clasped. Hermione's head was resting heavily on Ron's shoulder. Her hair was matted and decidedly less bushy than it had been. She was dirty, disheveled, cut and bruised. Ron fared no better. He had a large purple bruise spreading from his left cheek right across his face and his mouth was crusted with dry blood. Neville and Luna were sitting close. Luna was leaning her chin in her hands and staring off into space, not seeming to notice the blood that dribbled from her nose. Neville had his arm around her shoulders and was absentmindedly twirling her hair. George was sitting between them, having nobody to lean on. His arms were wrapped around his knees and Harry saw, when he looked closer, that he had written his brother's name over and over again in the dirt on the floor. He ran over to them and crouched before them. As he had expected, none of them saw him.

"Ron, Hermione. Can you hear me? Neville, George, Luna? Please, please hear me. Ron, Hermione. Neville, George Luna! Ron…" He repeated their names over and over, his voice growing steadily louder each time. Then, when he was at the point of screaming, Luna's head snapped up.

"Hello?" she asked, and Harry noticed that her voice had not lost that distant, dreamy quality that it had always had.

"Luna?" Neville asked, squeezing her shoulders "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Luna murmured "I just thought I heard…never mind." Harry groaned in despair. Just as they had settled back into silence, there was a loud clang from above. His five friends recoiled and Harry, forgetting he was invisible for a moment, flinched also. A Death Eater strode down the stairs, his face masked.

"What have you done with my sister?" Ron growled, and at that point, Harry realized in horror that Ginny was missing. He bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. The Death Eater merely shot a curse in Ron's direction and he crumpled, a wound opening up on his head, adding more blood to the mess on his face.

"Mudblood." The Death Eater said, unlocking Hermione's chains with a spell "Come with me." Paling, Hermione staggered to her feet, groaning in pain, but managing to stay upright. The Death Eater beckoned. Hermione bent down and kissed Ron gently on the lips.

"In case I don't come back" she whispered. Ron's hand brushed hers lightly as she moved to follow the Death Eater. Harry ran after her and slipped through the door, just before the Death Eater slammed it shut and locked it behind them.

He led them down many long hallways, all lit with the same greenish light that seemed to be common in the residences of Slytherins. Finally, they came to a large door set into a wall at the end of a passage. The Death Eater pushed open the doors with one hand and jerked Hermione in with the other.

"Well, well, well" a voice said dryly from the shadows "Hello, Mudblood. Why don't you come in? I have a few questions for you." From the shadows of the room, a black-cloaked figure stepped, twirling a wand in one hand, a knife in the other. It was Voldemort.


	3. Agony

**A/N: Here's another chapter. Sorry, I'm a bit slow. Hope you enjoy. As usual, please review. Standard disclaimer, yada yada yah. If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be on Fanfiction, would I?  
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Hermione reached automatically behind her, as if she was going to grab onto someone's wrist, but her hand clutched at empty air. A Death Eater emerged behind her and shoved her to her knees with a hard push on her upper back. Even as she fell, Harry noticed her scanning the room for something she could use to defend herself. But, there was nothing. Her face fell slightly as she found not even a discarded length of wood she could use for a weapon. The resourceful spark left her eyes, and her eyes moved to Voldemort, who stood before her, savouring her vulnerability.

"All right, filthy Mudblood. I've taught you what happens when you disobey me. Now, I have a few questions for you. You know about the resurrection stone. Don't lie!" he spit, as Hermione slowly shook her head "I know you do. I have the Elder Wand," he twirled the wand in his hand "And I have the Invisibility cloak that I took off Potter's body, but I just need the final hallow to become the master of death. I know Potter had it. I know you know Potter had it. Where is it?"

"I don't know" Hermione insisted. Her face looked stony and afraid at the same time.

"You know" Voldemort hissed "Tell me." A solitary tear crept its way down her cheek as she told him earnestly that she didn't know.

"Oh, you know. And you will tell me," he whispered, pushing her so she fell to the floor. He drew the knife gently across her throat, barely enough to break a layer of skin. He let the knife slide down her throat and come to rest just over her collarbone. She shuddered softly as the cold metal kissed her skin. Then, with a slow, fluid movement, Voldemort drove the knife underneath her collarbone. Hermione screamed and choked as blood spurted into her face. She coughed blood over her chest and her hands clutched her upper arms, scrabbling at the fabric of her clothes. He drew the knife out and moved into the corner of the room, presumably to fetch some other instrument of torture. In the silence that followed, Harry heard a quiet moan and the sound of someone stirring. He turned and saw, to his astonishment a white-faced little figure, with a mop of flame-red hair sprawled out on a small, wide-armed sofa. The figure was stirring, the fingers were twitching, the nose was wrinkling.

"Ginny!" Harry cried, rushing over to her and bending down, running his hands through her hair, passing right through her entirely.

"Harry?" she asked faintly, her eyes half-open "Harry? It hurts." She had a large gash across her lip that carried on down to her chin, her shirt was crusted with blood, and there were several small cuts everywhere he could see. But, as Harry began to feel a spark of hope, began to feel that maybe, just maybe one person could see him, her eyes fluttered fully open, and she sighed.

"He's dead" she murmured under her breath "He's dead" Harry felt a surge of inexpressible sorrow and rage flood through him.

"I'm here. I'm here" he breathed into her ear, but she didn't hear him.

"Foolish girl" Voldemort said, striding over to her "Of course he's dead. Now, you put your faith in me. I overpowered Harry Potter. Your weak, useless 'Boy-Who-Lived' is no more. You would do well to remember that." And with a flick of his wand, Ginny slumped back, unconscious. With his arms still stroking Ginny, sensing that she was not in any immediate danger, he turned back to Hermione, who was trying to move into a sitting position, while wincing silently in pain.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, twining his fingers in Hermione's matted hair and shoving her into the ground. Suddenly, the world went grey; hands reached out to grab Harry's shirt, his arms, his hands and dragged him, backwards and upwards. Voldemort and Hermione blurred in front of him, the scene faded.

"No!" he growled, fighting off the hands "No!" He struggled and pulled, and eventually, the hands released their grip. The world returned, the scene cleared. Voldemort and Hermione were there once again.

"I will ask you one more time, Mudblood. Where is it?" Voldemort growled. Harry watched in horror as the torture progressed. It was his fault, he told himself, all his fault. If he had never dropped the resurrection stone in the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort would have found it on his person. None of this would be happening. He felt like tearing his hair out as he watched, yet he would not- could not- leave.

"Harry" came a voice, and a hand was laid on his shoulder. His mother stood there, staring at him "Come back, Harry, please. You don't need to see this."

"No." Harry said adamantly, yet quietly "I have to stay. I can't leave them." His mother nodded, but stayed there, one hand around Harry's shoulders, the other clenched into a fist over her heart.

Hermione was screaming as Voldemort dragged the knife down one arm, leaving a long, thin, rather deep gash, from which blood was flooding. She was biting her lip so hard that it was swelling and bleeding. Suddenly, she screamed "Use Leglimency! You'll know I'm not lying. Please!"

Voldemort merely laughed, and, though Harry thought Hermione's plea was both sensible and would save time, he continued her torture until she was curled up in a little ball on the ground, sobbing. Finally though, when Harry had sunk to the ground on weak knees, Voldemort stopped, and beckoned a Death Eater, who stood dutifully by the door, forward.

"Take her away," Voldemort said idly "Give her some time to think about her answer. Take that one too." He motioned to Ginny. The Death Eater seized them by the arms and hauled the bodies, one struggling, one limp out of the room. Harry followed close behind.

The Death Eater threw them both back into the dungeon. Ginny thudded onto the ground lifelessly, her limbs flopping. Hermione only just managed to throw out her hands to break her fall.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed weakly "Thank God you're all right!"

"You call that all right?" George asked, as sarcastically as he could "Just look at her!" Hermione dragged herself, using mostly her arms, over to where Ron sat, and threw herself into him.

"I love you" she whispered. The embraced for several seconds, relishing the last moment they might have together, alone, with no Death Eaters to tear them apart.

"I love you too" he replied, kissing her dirty hair.

"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed, pulling himself up straighter "Look!"

"At what?" Hermione groaned in a hoarse voice.

"The Death Eater. He forgot to bind your hands!" This was small hope, but nevertheless, it was hope.

"You're right!" Ron gasped "Hermione, do you think you could find something that could get me out of these?" He rattled his cuffs. Hermione didn't look like she was in any state to move, but she nodded, and tried to drag herself off to look. Slowly, relentlessly, painfully, she dragged herself hand over hand across the dungeon, wincing with ever move. Harry scanned the room as well, and his eyes caught something in a corner. He ran over to inspect it, and found to his delight, a hairpin, used before and bent out of shape, but a hairpin nonetheless.

"Hermione!" he called, waving his arms to try and gain attention "Hermione! Hermione!" But she paid him no heed and scanned the opposite corner fruitlessly. Suddenly, with a little whoosh, James appeared at Harry's side.

"Come back Harry" he said, and it was almost a command.

"Why should I?"

"Dumbledore thinks he might be able to help you get in touch with your friends."


	4. Hope

**A'N: Enjoy and Pretty Please review!  
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Harry's eyebrows rocketed skywards as he took in his father's news.

"How? Tell me, please!" he begged.

"Come back." Immediately, Harry grabbed his father and mother's hand and they dissolved into the grey. The three of them landed unsteadily on their feet in Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Harry. I am glad you are back. Am I right in thinking that you did not find your experiences on Earth…pleasant?" Harry nodded, white-faced.

"Is Dad right?" he asked hurriedly "Have you found a way that I could make contact with them?"

"I believe so. It requires a potion of sorts. Nymphadora should be back any minute with Severus." Right on cue, Tonks opened the door, leading in Severus Snape, whose robes swept across the floor, making a sound like dry leaves rustling. Harry just stared at him. Snape hadn't changed one bit, he could tell. His eyes skimmed over Harry entirely, and came to rest on Dumbledore.

"You sent for me, Albus?" Snape asked

"Indeed I did, Severus." Dumbledore heaved open an enormously large book, sending a cloud of dust into the room "I discovered this particular volume a few minutes ago, buried deep in the back of my bookshelf. Crossing the barrier: A desperate man's guide to contact with the other side. It's a potion that we need Severus, and that is your area of expertise." He spun the book around so Snape could read the list of ingredients.

"You must understand, these ingredients are not usually compatible." Snape said, after he had run his finger all the way down the list "The method is simple enough and the ingredients are easy enough to come by, but the fact remains that the end product could be harmful, possibly lethal."

"I'm already dead" Harry scoffed "How can I die again?"

"There have been rare occasions when the already deceased have simply vanished, possibly into oblivion. But of course" Snape added, his lip curling snidely "Mr Potter does not take into account those risks."

"Severus" Dumbledore warned. He then turned to Harry "Do you want to continue with this?" he asked.

"Yes" Harry replied firmly. Snape's upper lip curled even more. Harry bent over the book to scan the list of ingredients.

"A Shire flower, a tree star, a cup of water from a west-flowing river, mmm hmmm, yeah, ok, sure, and a vial of the consumer's blood. Right, I have never heard of any of that stuff, except for the blood."

"Well, I wouldn't expect someone of your…limited intelligence to know what those ingredients are." Snape sneered "All those materials are found only in this world. The Shire flower, Potter, can you guess where that grows?"

"The Shire?" Harry guessed. Snape made a noise of contempt.

"Incorrect. It grows in the marshes. Do you know where tree stars are found?" Figuring this was another trick question; Harry answered "Underground."

"Once again, you display a similar level of intelligence to a two-year-old. Tree stars, Potter, grow on _trees_, difficult as that might be for you to comprehend."

"Oy! Lay off my godson, Snivellus." Sirius growled, kicking his chair over as he rose to his feet.

"Or what Black?" Snape inquired calmly "Going to try your little schoolboy spells on me?"

"Try me" Sirius said harshly.

"Severus! Sirius!" Dumbledore said firmly, rising to his feet. Both men sat down, Sirius looked resentful, Snape looked haughty. James clapped Sirius on the back.

"As it happens" Snape said, looking contemptuously at Harry "I do have a few of these ingredients readily available. The others I should be able to obtain before tomorrow."

"Thank you Severus" Dumbledore said, smiling "I shall see you tomorrow." Snape nodded curtly to Dumbledore, looked lingeringly at Lily, and swept his eyes disdainfully over the rest of them.

When the door had closed behind him, the room was deathly quiet. James, Sirius and Harry were seething, Lily was thinking, and Dumbledore was staring absentmindedly at the tips of his interlaced fingers.

"All right then" Harry said, standing up abruptly, unable to take any more of the increasingly awkward silence "I'll go now. Thank you very much."

"I will see you here tomorrow, Harry" Dumbledore said. Harry left, followed by James, Lily and Sirius. When they were back in his house, Harry flopped onto the sofa and covered his eyes with his hands.

He groaned in horror as images from his dreadful time in the pensieve returned to him in horrifying detail. Hermione, screaming and writhing in pain. Ginny, bloodless and deathly still on the sofa. Ron, a look of terror on his face as Hermione was called away. All because he had _dropped _the damn resurrection stone in the forest. God, he was such an idiot. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough for him. Maybe he would have a chance to finally put things right. He idly wondered how he would be able to communicate with them. Would he become a ghost? Would he be able to talk to them in their minds? And what if it all went wrong? What if he disappeared into oblivion forever?

"Harry" Sirius called "Harry, want a game of chess?" Harry looked at Sirius. His godfather had already set up the board, and the little chess pieces were fidgeting impatiently, waiting for the game to begin. Harry shrugged. Maybe this would be a good way to banish his agitated mood. He pulled out a chair.

"White or black?" Sirius asked, spinning the board.

"Black" Harry said. They commenced a game. Sirius was very good, and Harry, in his distracted state lost spectacularly. Sirius captured his king in exactly fifteen moves and swept the shattered fragments of Harry's sorry army into his palm.

"Good game." Sirius said, smiling smugly "We'll give them some time to regenerate." Even now, Harry saw little particles beginning to swirl around the table.

Everybody that night seemed to be going out of their way to keep Harry in a good mood. They were telling jokes, playing games, and recounting the numerous amusing moments from each of their lives. Lily came back from the kitchen with a plate stacked with cookies, cakes and slices. Harry couldn't really focus on anything. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, Dad," he asked, crossing his legs on the sofa "When people die, are they the same age up here as they were at the moment of death?"

"Yes, why?" James replied.

"Well, I was just thinking, what if my friends survive this, and when they finally do die, they're really old?"

"That's just something you're going to have to accept." James said, shrugging "When Remus died he was twenty-something years older than me, but I just got used to it."

"Yes, but my _girlfriend. _How do you think it's going to be having a girlfriend who is thirty plus years older than you?"

"I don't know, Harry, but I'm sure it happens to quite a few people."

"What if," Tonks piped up "You died at one hundred. Wouldn't it be annoying having to spend the rest of eternity being hardly able to walk? What if you died as a baby?"

"Well," James whispered mysteriously "In a place, far away, there's a well. It's in a place that you can't get to just by opening a door. If you dive into that well, rumour has it; you are able to be reborn again. If you die so old that you are crippled or die as a baby, you can go, or someone can take you to this well. One needs only to dive in and you will find yourself alive again as an unborn child. At least that's what people say."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Most people like to hang around though. Watch their families and friends. Although, after you've lived here for a while, most people like to start again. The downside is that you don't have any memories of anyone, so it can be quite emotional. Peter Pettigrew did that. He couldn't face any of us, and didn't have anyone to wait for, so he went straight to that well, the second he found out about it." James fell silent, and Harry thought about this for a while.


	5. Risks

**A/N: As always, please review. I put in a little Lily and James story to try and make it a little more interesting. Enjoy!**

Harry slept deeply that night. His dreams were bursting with nightmares, but he didn't wake. In the morning, when the rising sun forced itself between Harry's eyelids, he leapt out of bed, hoping that it wasn't too early to visit Dumbledore. His parents were still asleep in their bed, and Harry almost sat on Sirius, who was sprawled out asleep on the couch, only his shoeless feet poking out from underneath the blanket. He sat for a while on the windowsill, staring out into the sunrise. His musings were only interrupted by a snore from Sirius, who, when Harry turned to look at him, rolled off the couch and landed flat on his face on the ground.

"Ouch!" he shouted, waking suddenly and scrambling back up onto the couch. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Sirius rubbed his nose, wincing. Lily came down the stairs in a white bathrobe, her hair messed up.

"What the heck?" she asked, seeing Sirius and Harry both laughing "What was that loud noise?"

"Nothing to worry about Lily" Sirius said, waving a hand airily "I just fell off the couch is all."

"How heavy are you? That shook the house! James is still asleep of course, but still…" And shaking her head, she made her way upstairs. Sirius fell asleep again almost instantly, still snoring, and Harry resumed looking out of the window.

When everybody was finally up, Lily made pancakes. They were the best Harry had ever tasted. He and Sirius had another game of wizard chess, which Sirius won again and then they all went back for more pancakes.

Harry found himself asking loads of questions. Mostly to his father, sometimes to his mother. He wanted to know, first and foremost, how James had proposed to Lily. James smiled as he reminisced, and Lily laid her hand on his shoulder. James told the story, with a few interruptions and corrections from Lily.

They were renting an apartment together, a little muggle apartment on a little muggle street. Lily had come home one night after a busy day, and when she opened the door, James was standing on the dining room table and the room was littered with red rose petals. Tired, and wanting to put her feet up, Lily had begun to scream at James, but he cut her off and pulled a guitar out from behind his back.

"Wait a minute, Dad" Harry interrupted "You play guitar?"

"A little" James admitted, shrugging "I used to play in the boy's dorm at night, and I would compose songs for Sirius, Remus and Peter's birthdays."

"Can I hear some?"

"Harry," Sirius said, like he was conveying advice of the utmost seriousness "Those songs are the reason I went mad in Azkaban. The dementors sucked away all my happy memories and left those songs, playing over and over in my head. Your sanity is precious Harry. Don't throw it away"

"Anyway" said James "On with the story…"

James had spent the past few weeks composing a song on the guitar, and he played it to her. When the chorus came, the lyrics being mostly words like 'Marry me, baby' he knelt down on one knee in the middle of their flat and held out a ring.

"That's so cool! I didn't know you could sing and play guitar. And of course, Mum said yes."

"Well…" James said "She did. But it was immediately followed by a slap on the arm and a cry of 'You ruined my couch!'" Sirius snorted with laughter.

Harry shot an unnecessary amount of glances at the clock, which seemed to be working extra slowly just to annoy him. His fingers drummed impatiently on the table for at least an hour until Lily stuffed another pancake in his hand to stop him. Every five minutes, Harry would ask when they could go. He felt a bit stupid asking over and over again, but it seemed as though some outside force was compelling him to ask. His impatience was growing to an insurmountable level.

Finally, Lily checked the clock and agreed that it was time to go. All four of them trooped into the cosy office, where a fire was crackling gently in the hearth. Dumbledore was poring over the huge book that contained the potion recipe, blowing the dust from the pages at regular intervals. He looked up as they entered and took a seat.

"Severus will be here in a couple of minutes." Dumbledore said, turning another page of the book "I believe he has just gone to find a west-flowing river." They sat silently for another five minutes. Harry was seething. Snape had kept him waiting for almost longer than he could bear and Harry hated him for it, not knowing how many lives had been taken that he could have spared in the last few minutes. Finally, the door opened, and Snape glided in, carrying a small cauldron of flat red liquid. He set it down on a small chair.

"That doesn't look very magical" James commented, observing the mixture, which closely resembled cranberry juice.

"Well, Potter" Snape remarked sardonically "It hasn't been finished yet, has it? There is still the matter of extracting a vial of your son's blood, here."

"Right, let's get to that then" Harry said, holding out his arm, palm up. He pulled up his sleeve to just below his elbow. Snape extracted a dagger from his cloak, then sneered.

"Let's see how much you want this then" he said, holding the dagger about a centimetre above his wrist. Harry saw Lily grip James's hand and bite her lip. Harry braced himself for pain. It never came. Snape had brought the dagger down, but at the last second, it had deflected and cut through the empty air beside his arm. Harry's eyes widened.

"You obviously don't want to see your little friends then" Snape scorned "The only way one can be harmed in this world is if you absolutely want the injury. If you aren't fully accepting, glad even, of the wound you will be receiving, you will not be harmed. So concentrate Potter." The next few minutes reminded Harry strongly of his Occlumency lessons. Snape continually brought the knife down, Harry tried his hardest to manipulate his thoughts about being sliced open and Snape threw insults at Harry every time he failed. Finally, Harry felt a searing pain in his wrist, and looked down to see blood spurting from a long, shallow gash in his skin. He laughed and flinched at the same time. Snape handed Harry a vial, and he filled it with his own blood. It was not the most disgusting thing he had ever done, he reasoned with himself as he handed the thick, scarlet liquid back to Snape. Snape upended the vial into the cauldron, and the liquid inside began to froth and bubble, turning a shade of green that Harry associated with poison.

He ladled a small amount into a cup and handed it to Harry. Harry observed it warily, sniffed it suspiciously and recoiled. It smelled like something dying.

"Is it safe?" he asked worriedly.

"Why don't you try it and see, Potter." Snape sneered "If it's not, we'll, it won't be much of a loss then, will it?" Lily, James and Sirius glared at Snape, but Harry was too preoccupied to notice. He went round the room. He hugged his Dad and his Mum, and told them he loved them. He hugged Sirius and thanked him for everything he had done. And lastly, he thanked Dumbledore, for helping him every step of the way.

"Hurry up! Hurry up! We don't have much time before the potion becomes stagnant." Snape snapped.

Harry stepped into the centre of the room and raised the vial to his lips.

"Bottoms up," he said, and drank.


	6. Communication

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much to all my fantastic reviewers for all their brilliant reviews! Keep them coming. This will be my last update before Christmas, as things are pretty busy around here, getting ready and such. Hope you enjoy!**

He felt like his body was being ripped through with fire. The sensation was of burning, but the pain wasn't a burning pain. No, he felt like he was being eaten alive with writhing tongues of ice. Mercifully, the pain was over very quickly, but it left him feeling prickly and numb. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked around. He was on his knees on the floor. Everybody was staring at him, holding their breaths. Harry got to his feet, feeling rather faint.

"Harry? How do you feel?" Lily asked tentatively.

"Dizzy" he replied, staggering a couple of steps to the side. His parents were looking at him with worry on their faces, so Harry decided to examine himself. He gasped in horror as his eyes travelled downwards. He was grey and transparent, shimmering and ghostly.

"What went wrong?" he gasped, looking around "I thought I was supposed to be able to communicate with my friends. Now I'm just a ghost in the world of the dead!"

"Do keep quiet, Potter" Snape snapped "This is what is supposed to happen. If the potion went wrong, you would not be standing in front of us right now. So calm down and stop your blathering." Harry's breathing slowed.  
>"So what do I do now?" he asked, turning to Dumbledore.<p>

"Just dive into the pensieve" Dumbledore said, moving to open the closet where it was kept.

"And, will everybody be able to see me as a ghost?" Harry asked.

"No, not exactly. Nobody will be able to see you while they're awake. There's not a potion or a spell for that. You will be able to enter their dreams, and talk to them then. It's not the best way of communicating, but it is the only way we have."

"I don't care. I'll do it!" Harry responded immediately. Dumbledore sat the pensieve on the bench.

"You have a few hours. It will be plenty of time."

"Thank you. I'll see you in a while." Harry smiled at the room. They smiled back and there was a chorus of 'goodbyes' and 'good lucks'. And without further ado, Harry sunk his face into the pensieve.

He landed back in the dungeon. It felt cold, and he felt far too light, like a gust of wind would blow him away. Moving around a large pillar, he saw his friends. They were all chained to the wall once more. They looked sunken, and pale, with dark rings around their eyes. They weren't even moving. They could have been dead, if not for the ever so slight rising and falling of their chests. Harry wondered how he would know when they fell asleep. He sat down and wrapped his hands around his knees, waiting, although he felt horrible doing that. He felt like he needed to be doing something. The worst part was, he could tell that they had all given up. Even in the toughest of situations, he had never known Hermione to give up, never known Luna to let go of her beliefs.

Suddenly, a large white cloud blossomed above Ginny's head. Harry stood up in shock, and reached out his hand to it. Was this a dream? How could he enter it? Slowly, he let his fingers brush the cloudy substance and felt a tingling sensation like an electric current running up his arm. Slowly, he pushed his hand in further, until his arm was submerged up to his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he dove into the cloud, and found himself in a large expanse of grass and flowers.

In the middle, he saw Ginny, lying in the grass, staring at the clouds up ahead. He ran over to her, unable to wait. When she saw him, she sprang to her feet.

"Harry!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms, and sobbing into his shoulder "I thought I'd never see you again."

She pressed her lips to his, her tears transferring onto his face. Together, they sank onto the grass.

"So, that time when I had been tortured, and woke up, and saw you standing there, was that really you?"

"Yes, I was there." Harry said softly "I just want you to know Ginny, no matter how much he tortures you, no matter what he does, when you die, it's an eternity of peace. All you have to do is get through one measly lifetime."

"Really?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Yes. You'll see Fred, you'll see your friends, you'll see me and everyone you've ever loved. You've just got to be strong."

"It's just so hard," she said, shaking violently "You don't know what he can do, even without the Cruciatus Curse. You don't know how much it hurts."

"You're going to get through this. You have nothing to fear from death. Just be brave, and remember, I'm always watching over you." Suddenly, Ginny's face fell.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" she sighed, sounding crestfallen "You're just a figment of my imagination."

"No, I'm not. But you've got to promise to remember me when you wake up."

"I will, Harry" And she leaned in for another kiss. As their lips met, a crack tore through the grass at their knees. Harry looked up in shock. The sky was interwoven with little black lines. The trees leaves were swirling through space and the very particles seemed to be detaching from each other. Suddenly, as though a hurricane had ripped through the meadow, everything imploded. Harry had enough time to call out Ginny's name before he was thrown back into the dungeon with enough force to send him skidding into the opposite wall. Ginny woke with a shudder. Her eyes flickered open and she jerked against her constraints. George, who was closest to her, felt her jerk and turned his head weakly in her direction.

"Ginny," he said gently "Bad dream?"

"No," she breathed "Good dream. Brilliant dream. Harry came to me. I swear it was him. He told me that there is nothing to fear from death and to be brave. I know it was real. I dreamt of him twice before, and he was fuzzy and indistinct. But, this time, he was vivid. We kissed, and I remember every movement." George looked at her sceptically, but looked too drained to say anything else. Harry felt delight like nothing he'd known. He knew he had just seconds in each dream, but it would be enough. He wondered how long he would have to wait for the next dream. It was mere seconds. A large white cloud blossomed above Hermione's head, and Harry, seizing his chance, leapt through its pillow-like exterior.

Unsurprisingly, he was in a library that seemed to extend for infinity. Shelves towered to the roof and there were little rolling ladders everywhere. He saw Hermione almost immediately. She was seated on a large sofa, books piled all around her. She didn't even see Harry as he approached, so busy was she flipping through a large muggle novel.

"Hermione," he whispered in her ear. She jumped, the novel tumbling from her hands.

"Harry!" she shrieked, scrambling up and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She held him close, her bushy hair flying in his face "I'm so sorry you died. I could have done something to help. We just left you there with Voldemort in the middle of the Hall. We should have fought."

"Rubbish!" Harry whispered into her ear "Didn't I ask for you all not to fight. I swear, Hermione, you are a genius. You did brilliantly, absolutely fantastically. Now, before you wake up, I want to tell you what I told Ginny. You have nothing to fear from dying. An eternity of peace and loved ones. You can get through this. Please, just promise me that you won't submit to Voldemort. Don't lose yourself. I'll be watching over you."

"He wants the Resurrection Stone, Harry. He wants to get it so he can have all three of the Hallows and become the Master of Death. He hasn't been making any more Horcruxes. Anybody could kill him. I can't just lie there. If I could get a wand, or a large hunk of wood, even, I could kill him. It frustrates me that I can't."

"I'm working on it. I haven't got a plan yet. But he's not going to find out where the Resurrection stone is, and he's not going to either. I may be dead, but I'm not going to stop fighting. Hermione, I'm so proud of you. Just stay strong." Harry had just noticed the ceiling of the library beginning to split open. More and more hairline cracks appeared until the ceiling resembled a giant spider web. Then, just as Harry gave Hermione one last hug, their world exploded and Harry was back in the dungeons once more. He didn't skid so far this time. The intensity with which he had been hugging Hermione seemed to have slowed him a little. As he waited for the next dream to appear, a brainwave hit him, one that just might change everything.


	7. Plan

**A/N: Hey, sorry this chapter took so long. Please review and enjoy! **

Thoughts rushed through Harry's head, overwhelming him. A few experiments were all it would take, and then he might have a way to defeat Voldemort. He paced the floor, excited, anxiously waiting for another dream-cloud to appear. It was above Ron's head.

Inside was a Quidditch Match. The Chudley Cannons versus Tutshill Tornadoes by the looks of it. Ron was in the stands, cheering and holding up an orange and black banner emblazoned with the words _Chudley Cannons! _He wore a tall orange and black striped hat. A commentators voice announced that the Cannons were leading 80-30 and that Antonovitch, the Chaser had just scored. Harry joined Ron in the stands.

"Hey Harry!" Ron said enthusiastically "Great game isn't it? Cannons are winning for the first time in years. Finally breaking their losing streak!"

"Yeah! It's great Ron!" Harry said clapping along.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked, still focused on the game.

"Visiting your dream. I took a potion so I could do that."

"This is a dream?" Ron asked, looking annoyed.

"Yes. If you really were at a Quidditch Match, then I wouldn't be here."

"Damn!" Ron cursed "The Cannons finally win a match and it's in my imagination! Wait a minute." Ron tore his eyes from the game and looked at Harry "You're dead."

"Well spotted" Harry said calmly.

"So…" he frowned, looking confused "What are you then? A figment of my imagination? A memory?"

"No. It's me. Granted, I'm dead, but I'm me, and nothing your mind has created. I took a potion so I could talk to you."

"Bloody Hell" Ron gaped incredulously "So when you're dead, you can still drink potions and see the living and things?"

"It's pretty much the same as the world you live in." Harry agreed "But a lot less violent" he added as an afterthought.

"I heard Ginny going on about having seen you in her dreams, but I thought she was just being wistful. Why did you come?"

"Firstly to tell you something, and secondly to experiment. You see, I'm beginning to get at a way to kill Voldemort, but it'll take planning. I don't think you'll be able to help; I'm going to need the dead. Hundreds of the dead, but only if this works." Ron looked hopeful.

"But first," Harry went on "I need to tell you what I told Hermione and Ginny. The afterlife is peaceful. An eternity of happiness. You just need to get through one measly lifetime. You won't even think of the torture when you've died." Each time he said it, the line just got cheesier. "You've just got to get through this" he rounded off.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his words were drowned out by a thunderous roar of cheering from the crowd. The Cannons had caught the Snitch, winning the game. Ron didn't even look up. Suddenly, the noise dimmed, as if a pair of earmuffs had been snapped on Harry's head.

"You're waking up" he said, looking around "Ron, I want you to hold onto me, as tight as you can."

"Okay." Ron gripped Harry's upper arms, looking uncertain as to what Harry wanted. Harry grabbed Ron's shoulders and held Ron tightly as he felt the world shattering around him. Blackness roared around him. Ron was being tugged from his grip, but he held on. He felt intense pain. He was being pulled apart from all directions. All he could feel was Ron's shirt under his sweaty palms. And then suddenly, he felt like he was being dragged to Earth. He felt like he had been smashed into solid concrete with tremendous force. And then his eyes fluttered open. He was in pain. He felt blood dribbling down his face, but that was impossible. He was dead. He couldn't be hurt. He tried to move an arm, but his body wouldn't obey him. Then, his head tilted of its own accord. Then he realized it wasn't his body. He felt different. There was a mass of bushy hair tickling his chin. Hermione was leaning against him. He was in Ron's body! The moment he realized this, Ron's body gave a twitch and then a jerk and Harry was sent spiraling onto the dungeon floor, himself once more. He scrambled to his feet. This was unbelievable! He had inhabited Ron's body, just for a second. If that was what he could do by himself, imagine what he could do with a whole host of others. He could take down Voldemort!

He was so insanely excited that he didn't bother to visit anybody else's dreams. He swiftly returned to Dumbledore's office, in a frenzy of enthusiasm.

"Harry," James said, looking worried "What happened? We didn't expect you back for an hour at least."

Harry, elated, nearly tripped over his own feet as he hastened to explain.

"I can defeat Voldemort!" he cried, to astonished looks from his parents and Sirius "Using dreams. If I can amass an army of the dead, we can all enter Voldemort's dream and destroy him from within! It's perfectly simple!" His plan was met with raised eyebrows and dubious looks.

"What?" he asked "It's a good plan!"

"Well," Sirius said hesitantly "Aside from the fact that it's extremely dangerous, how on earth would you get enough potion to allow an army of the magnitude you are suggesting to enter dreams. We had to make an entire cauldron-full just for you."

"It's not like we haven't got time," Harry argued "We've got all eternity, and so does Voldemort."

"Do you really think Snape will consent to run all over the country getting enough ingredients for hundreds of batches of potion?" Lily asked.

"He might for you," Sirius muttered under his breath. Thankfully, Lily didn't hear, or Sirius might not have lived to see another day.

"And how are you going to get people to join you? How many people do you reckon will be willing to help you?"

"I don't know yet" Harry said "But I reckon lots of people will have friends and family down there that would be willing to help."

"Harry, leave it for the moment" James said "Sleep on it, and decide tomorrow." Harry was positive that he wouldn't change his mind given an entire year, let alone one night, but he let it drop for the moment.

All that night, he thought his plan over. He would get every skilled potion maker he could find to mix hundreds of concoctions. He would encourage and cajole every willing person he could find to join him in his fight. If they all had the potion at once, and they all stampeded Voldemort's dreams, and held on when he woke, they might be able to possess him for long enough to destroy him. It was a long shot. They could all vanish into oblivion in the attempt. But Harry was confident that they could do it.

The next morning, Lily asked Harry if he still wanted to go through with his plan. He replied assertively that he did. The three of them looked at him regretfully.

"What?" Harry defended himself. He turned to Sirius "Don't you want to do it? I thought you liked taking risks."

"Are you kidding? I would do this in a heartbeat!" Sirius said enthusiastically "I'm worried for you. You've spent far too much time in the mortal world, and when you're not there, you're thinking about it. I understand that you deserve a little more time than most, given your situation, but you can't fix everything."

"But this isn't just some petty problem!" Harry objected "This is _Voldemort _we're talking about. People have been trying to get rid of him for years. Now I've found a possible way. Shouldn't we be doing everything we can to finish him once and for all?"

"Harry, the dead aren't meant to interfere with life. It's like the oldest unspoken rule there is around here. You've crossed several lines already and you've been here less than a week."

"Please, Sirius, Dad, Mum" Harry pleaded "Please let me do this one thing. Then, I'll never interfere in mortal life at all. Ever. I won't even go near Dumbledore's office. Please. This one thing."

Sirius, James and Lily looked at each other apprehensively. Finally they nodded.

"This one thing" Lily said firmly. Harry was just about to respond excitedly when Sirius cheered.

"Yes! Brilliant!" he whooped, leaping from his chair "I'm in!" James, Lily and Harry just stared.


	8. Recruitment

**A/N: Wow, this chapter took a long time. I had a bad case of writer's block around halfway through. After intensive treatment, however, I have been cured, and am back on a roll. Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. End of story.  
><strong>

The next day, there was a knock on the door. Lily went to answer it. Standing there was Snape, looking decidedly irritated.

"Dumbledore asked if I would pay you a visit. He said you had a…request." Snape looked as if he would love to tell them all exactly what he thought of this request, if he were speaking to anyone but Lily.

"Come in, come in, Severus" Lily said politely. Snape stepped over the threshold, looking mildly disgusted. James and Sirius were stifling snorts of laughter behind their hands. Harry shot them a sideways glance and wondered what was funny. Snape refused a seat and stood rigid and imposing in the centre of their kitchen.

"I'm afraid we have another favour to ask of you Severus" Lily said politely, and Harry noticed that she was the only one in the room who seemed to show Snape any kind of politeness or respect. James and Sirius were still snorting behind their hands and Harry felt a cold dislike. Snape sighed.

"What?" he demanded.

"Well, you see," she said slowly "Harry has a plan."

"Potter has a plan?" Snape said cuttingly "This can't be good."

"Severus, please" Lily said, laying a hand on his arm. Snape glanced at her, sighed, pursed his lips and waited.

"We're going to need you to make a few more batches of that potion." Lily said quickly. Snape glared.

"I thought Potter had a plan," he said snidely.

"He does, he does" Lily replied.

"How many?" Snape sighed, rolling his eyes. Lily braced herself and said very fast "A couple of hundred."

"What?" Snape hissed in outrage "A couple of hundred? You expect me to run all over the place getting the ingredients for a couple of hundred potions?"

"Not alone. We'll find other skilled potion-makers to help you." Lily said, trying to appease him.

"What on earth could Potter be planning to do with a couple of hundred Dream Potions?" Snape demanded.

Lily briefly outlined Harry's visit to the mortal world and his plan. Snape's mouth pursed. He did not reply, which Harry took to mean he couldn't find anything to criticize.

"So you'll do it?" Lily asked. Snape turned to her, arms crossed.

"I will," he said darkly and turned to walk out the door.

"Oy, Snivellus" James yelled at his retreating back "His name is Harry!" Snape ignored him.

"Right!" Harry said, planting his palms on the table and pushing himself to his feet "I'm going to get going and recruit an army!" As he walked out the door with a spring in his step, he grabbed a coat from a rack, slipped it on, and found himself in the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. About a dozen people were zooming around on brooms- Firebolts, as far as Harry could tell- laughing and throwing the Quaffle back and forth. Hundreds of others were crowded in the stadium cheering them on. Still more were sitting on benches along the edge of the pitch, clutching broomsticks, waiting for their turn. Harry decided to watch a bit of the game, and slid into the stands. He had just turned his attention to the game and tried to figure out who was winning when a voice behind him said "Harry?" Harry turned and saw, much to his surprise, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, both with binoculars strung around their necks.

"Seamus! Dean!" Harry exclaimed in surprise "How are you?"

"Pretty good, considering…" Dean said, trailing off at the end.

"Yeah. How did it happen? When?" Harry asked.

"Just after you died." Seamus said "You-Know-Who acted all triumphant for a while. Made victory speeches of a sort, tortured a few, got Ron, Hermione and a few others dragged off by Death Eaters and then fired killing curses into the crowd. Hit me first, then Dean a while later. He got Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil, Charlie Weasley, Professor Trelawney and…Romilda Vane. That's all I can remember. I think there were a few more though."

"Wow." Harry said flatly. He'd missed so much, because he had been so preoccupied with the six who were in Voldemort's clutches. Professor Trelawney. He couldn't imagine her dying. She always radiated an aura of airiness. The idea of something as serious as death befalling her seemed a little unusual. Charlie Weasley. Dragon keeper. Always covered in burns and scars. The one who had taken Norbert, now Norberta, off Hagrid's hands. Padma Patil. The one who had reluctantly taken Ron, dressed in his hideously old-fashioned dress robes, to the Yule Ball. Romilda Vane, desperate to smuggle Harry a love potion. Hannah Abbott, so easily convinced by Ernie that he, Harry, was the heir of Slytherin. All of them he had barely taken the time to know. All of them dead.

Never mind. He shook the thought bodily from his head.

"How's the game going?" he asked Seamus and Dean, jerking his thumb at the game going on behind him.

"Um…"Dean said, furrowing his eyebrows "The…Greens are winning."

"The Greens?" Harry asked.

"Yes. We just have games continuously going so everybody gets a turn. There are the Greens and the Blues. Me and Dean have watched about seven games." Just then, the crowd gave a massive roar and a commentator's voice yelled through the microphones "And Prentice has caught the Snitch. Blue's Win!" The small girl, who must be Prentice, did a lap of the pitch, holding the Snitch aloft. Harry turned back to Dean and Seamus.

"Hey guys. If I asked you to help me with something dangerous –something that might defeat Voldemort – would you do it?"

"Of course!" Dean said eagerly "You've come up with a plan already? Wow! What is it?"

"Well" Harry said, lowering his voice "If we take a potion, we can visit the dead through their dreams…"

"Really?" Seamus interrupted him "Have you done that? What is it like? Do they remember it when they wake up? How do you make the potion?"

"Just let me tell you the plan. Extra details come later." Seamus made a 'zip the lip' motion and leaned forward to listen.

"So, what we do, is we take the potion, enter Voldemort's dream as an army, and when he wakes up, we hold on long enough to possess his body and we force him to kill himself. I tried it with Ron. By myself, I can only inhabit his body for a few seconds. With an army…who knows?"

"Brilliant, Harry!" Dean exclaimed "I'm in!"

"Me too!" Seamus beamed.

"Great! Help me spread the word, will you?"

"That'll take far too long." Dean said dismissively "The commentator will have a megaphone on him. Use that." Harry looked and saw, beside the sandy-haired boy commentating, a large red megaphone.

"Thanks Dean!" Harry said, grinning, and wended his way out of the stands to borrow the megaphone.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" the commentator asked, eyes wide.

"Yes? I'm sorry, I don't know you." Harry said politely.

"You wouldn't. Of course you wouldn't." the boy said, shaking his head "I'm Alex Bower. I died before you were born. You went to school with my cousin, though. Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. Perhaps you didn't know her. She was in Slytherin."

"Oh, I knew her, all right" Harry said, trying to conceal the distaste in his voice.

"Well, I used to hang around Hogwarts and watch her. You know, make sure she was all right and such. I used to see you hanging around." Harry wondered vaguely how such a friendly, mild boy could be related to Pansy Parkinson of all people.

"Hey, can I borrow your megaphone?" Harry asked "I'll just be a few minutes. It's very important."

"Sure" Alex said, handing it over "The next game doesn't start for a few minutes anyway."

"Thanks!" Harry said, picking it up and moving to the middle of the field, where the 14 players were just landing. Harry flicked it on.

"Um…testing, testing" he said, feeling suddenly nervous. The noise from the crowd decreased considerably, and what little was left died after a few seconds after the people around pointed out Harry Potter on the field. Soon there was dead silence and all eyes were boring into Harry, who shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Um…hi." Harry said "In case you don't know me, I'm Harry Potter." There was a wolf whistle from the crowd, followed by several laughs. Harry grinned slightly.

"Well, as most of you know, Voldemort is now in control of the mortal world and as a few of you know, I'm doing everything in my power to stop him. The thing is, I can't do this alone any more. So, I need your help. Anyone who knows someone down there, or who was killed by Voldemort, or who just wants to come along for some laughs, we need you. Here's what's going to happen." Briefly, he outlined the plan to the intently listening crowd for what seemed like the billionth time. They waited for him to finish with bated breath.

"So," he finished finally "Who's in?"


	9. Gathering

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Thanks to all my brilliant reviewers! Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, what on earth would I be doing on fanfiction?**

There was a long silence, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Harry twisted his hands anxiously. Finally, Dean and Seamus raised their hands in the air. Then, Alex Bower. Then a dark skinned girl near the back. Then a group of boys. One by one nearly half of the hands in the Quidditch stadium went up into the air. Dead silence reigned. Tentatively, Harry smiled. At a quick glance, it looked like he had around a hundred.

"Wow," he said through the megaphone "That's…wow. Fantastic. Thank you so much. Meet me in the Great Hall in one week from now at noon. Wow." He returned the megaphone to Alex, who leapt straight back into his announcements.

"Ok, if you want to be in the next game, write your name down here and grab a broom!" he called to the crowd, sliding a sheet with fourteen rows on it onto the desk. Still grinning manically with happiness, Harry grabbed a quill and scribbled his name on the top row and Seeker, under the box labelled 'position'. He was feeling great. He wanted to have some fun. After everyone else had signed up, he grabbed a Firebolt from the pile against the wall. He liked the feeling of polished wood under his hands and the broom felt familiar.

"Right then!" Alex said, grabbing his megaphone "For the Blues team, I introduce Boyed, Castanovie, Elliot, Ferguson, Johansen, McRobie and…Potter!" Harry zoomed onto the field with his team, wearing a blue band around his forehead, feeling elated. Right now, he didn't- couldn't-care about anything. Right now, all that existed was the wind whipping through his hair and the cheers of the crowd in the stadium far, far beneath him. He had left his problems on the ground and now they were nothing more than tiny ants. Alex introduced the other team, the snitch was released and he was off, zooming around the field, feeling like he was back where he belonged. He ducked through the towers and hovered high in the air, scanning the sky for the Snitch.

"And McRobie has the Quaffle, she passes it to Elliot, who passes it to Castanovie, who passes it to…no, it's intercepted by Frederickson who passes it to McKinley who scores! 10-0 to the Greens!" Six more goals to the Greens later, Harry was getting desperate. He needed to find that Snitch. There! There it was! Flitting around behind the right goalpost, then darting through it and zooming towards the other end of the pitch. In a flash, Harry was after it, but the Greens seeker had seen it too.

"And Roberson and Potter have both seen the Snitch! The chase is on! It's Roberson…no, Potter…no Roberson in the lead! Roberson catches…no, it just slipped through his fingers. Oh, did you see that move made by Potter! And Potter catches the Snitch! Blue's win!" Harry soared to the ground, the Snitch held aloft in his hand, amidst cheers and hollers from the crowd. Another point was scratched up on the giant chalkboard for the blues. Harry felt great. His hair was even more windblown that usual, and his knuckles were white from gripping the broom handle so tightly, but for the first time since he had died, he felt _alive. _

"Mum! Dad! Sirius!" Harry cried, as he ran back into their house, throwing his jacket onto the floor "I did it!"

"Did what?" came Lily's voice from the dining room.

"Got an army! At least a hundred people. I'm halfway there!"

"That's fantastic, honey!" Lily said, giving Harry a hug.

"And," Harry said excitedly "I played a game of Quidditch! And won!" Then, he couldn't resist giving them all a blow-by-blow account of the game.

"Well, we've got some good news for you too, Harry" Lily smiled "Snape has found nine other potion masters to help him. They can average roughly three potions a day, so they should be done within a week!"

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed "I can't wait!"

A week passed far too slowly for Harry's liking. The seconds ticked passed, each one agonizingly sluggish. Harry had taken to tapping out the tune of 'Weasley is our King' on the kitchen table, much to the annoyance of Lily, who ended up putting a muffling charm on his hands. Even with his second enlistment of around a hundred, the waiting was making him restless. He had found his second lot of fighters in the Ministry of Magic, which was bustling with people, some carrying stacks of papers, others holding fire-breathing creatures at arms-length. He had stood on the ledge of the Fountain of Magical Brethren and shouted until he was hoarse trying to gather a crowd. A worker dressed in bright yellow robes had then shouted at him to use the _Sonorus _charm, making him feel extremely foolish. But, after hours and hours of roundabout explaining, he had one-hundred and seventeen people willing to fight Voldemort.

As Harry waited for the week to come to a close, he realized, that however impatient he might be, the time he had to spend at home let him spend more time with his Mum, Dad and Sirius. He suddenly realized that he had been so preoccupied with fighting Voldemort that he had hardly talked to them at all. So, many times that week, they would sit around the table or in chairs by the fire, and they would talk. Harry found out many things about his parents.

James had once spiked his Ancient Runes teacher's pumpkin juice with Veritaserum , resulting in her telling the entire Great Hall that she had once taken break dancing lessons. James had gotten two months' worth of detentions for that.

Lily had dated a Hufflepuff boy called Reece Proudfoot once, just to make James annoyed. Reece, due to some 'accident' in Potions class, had come out in horrible green boils the following week. Lily had earned her first ever detention the same day. She had hexed James in the fourth floor corridor.

Sirius, when he was still living with at Grimmauld place with his mother, had hired a muggle band to play at his party. James, Remus and Peter had set the party up in the main living room, and, when his mother had come back from a day out, she had found dozens of school-age children dancing to the latest rendition of _Thriller. _Sirius wasn't allowed out of the house for a month.

Harry laughed himself sick every day that week. He learnt almost everything there was to know about his parents and godfather. He never would have guessed that James won an informal eating competition in the Great Hall, or that Lily wanted to be a gymnast before she got her Hogwarts letter and it came as a total shock to him that Sirius had once worked as a radio presenter and was fired within the week for making inappropriate jokes about the size of his manager's rear end on air.

So, by the time the big day rolled around, Harry was in extremely good spirits. He showed up in the Great Hall to find at least two hundred people gathered there and two hundred cauldrons full of cranberry-coloured liquid lined up against the wall. People were chattering noisily, grinning and whispering. Others were looking sombre.

"_Sonorus" _Harry muttered under his breath "Hello!" Harry called and everybody jumped. Good. He had their attention "First of all, we can only have two hundred of you, so I'm going to need to count you. Can you line up please?" With much noise and scrambling about, the people in the room organised themselves into wonky lines. Harry rushed up and down, quickly counting. He came up with the number two hundred and fifty six. Fifty-six people he would have to discard. He sighed.

"Okay, anyone who isn't prepared to risk their life, please leave." As he expected, nobody moved.

"Okay, anyone under the age of 15, please leave." There were outraged shouts at this instruction, and a bunch of school children stormed out the door. At a quick count, he saw that there were now only seven extras. He decided to cross that bridge when the potions were ready.

"Now, I want everyone to choose a cauldron, take a knife and a vial, and fill it with your blood. But remember, you must _want _the blood to flow. You must _desire _it. Or else it won't." Some people procured the blood immediately. Others spent ages bringing the knife down, over and over again, onto their wrist, only to have it deflected every single time.

Finally though, two hundred people in the room had vials filled with their own blood and were pouring them into the cauldrons, which bubbled and turned poison-coloured.

"All right." Harry said, clutching his own beaker of deadly-green potion in his hand "Let's do this."

And, he, in unison with the rest of the room, drank.


	10. Urgency

**Here is the next chapter! The tension is building! Hope you like it! Standard disclaimer. **

Again, the familiar ice-fire ripped through him. He collapsed onto one knee, one hand flat on the floor, the other clutching his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the rest of the room sink to the floor as well. A blanket of what felt like freezing-cold silk fell over him and, when he opened his eyes, he was transparent as a ghost. There were shouts of shock and amazement as the rest of the room discovered the effects of the dream potion. Some were waving their hands in front of their faces. Others were shoving their hands through their friend's chests. There was laughing from the younger and more immature members of the army, like Sirius and James, who were running at and jumping through each other, shouting at the tops of their voices.

"All right, all right!" Harry called "Calm down!" He was paid no heed. "_Sonorus. _Shut it!" The noise stopped at once. Many put their hands over their ears.

"Okay. Follow me up to Dumbledore's office. If you don't know where that is, follow someone that does." And he pushed open the double doors that led out into the Entrance Hall and led the mob up to the former Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly as Harry led the army inside.

"Hello, sir!" Harry said brightly "I brought a few people to use you pensieve."

"Yes, a few people indeed." Dumbledore agreed lightly, gesturing Harry over to his pensieve, which lay on an empty bookshelf.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said and turned to address the crowd "Okay, when I jump into the pensieve, I want you to follow me, and wait behind me. Understand?" There was shouted assent from the crowd. So, without a second glance behind him, Harry let himself plummet through the murky depths. He found himself back in the same dungeon, lit with a dim green light, the floor-to-ceiling pillars seeming even more towering. And there were his friends, still sprawled against the wall, looking like they had been through hell and back numerous times. They were all unconscious, dream bubbles floating above their heads. Their bodies were stained red, they looked hollow and sunken. Ron, Ginny, George, Luna, Neville…where was Hermione? Harry scanned the room, jumping in surprise as dozens upon dozens of people popped up around him, crowding the large space.

"Wait here!" he called to his army, and dove frantically into the first dream bubble he saw; George's.

He found himself in a stone courtyard, alone. Fireworks were exploding overhead, forming dragon's heads, faces of people and Catherine wheels. George was sitting beside a statue of an eagle that blossomed from the fountain in centre, flicking his wand to control the explosions. His chin was in his hands, but he looked healthy enough. Harry was just about to call out to him when there was a holler from behind him, and Fred came bursting through the white cloud that was George's dream.

George spun around, and the fireworks immediately died. His eyes first flicked over Harry, and came to rest on Fred.

"Fred!"

"George!" The two brothers ran, tripping over their own feet to hug each other.

"How have you been?"

"Dead! How about you!"

"Better now." And they stood in silence for a long time, arms around each other. Finally, sensing that time was running out, Harry cleared his throat, causing both twins to turn and face him.

"We're here to kill Voldemort" he announced, and George grinned "But first, where's Hermione?"

George squinted, as if trying to see through a heavy veil of fog.

"I…I…" he muttered, rubbing his forehead "I can't remember. I must have been half unconscious. Ron…was screaming. The Death Eaters were… laughing. And then I passed out. I don't know. I'm sorry Harry." Fred and George, their arms around each other, wore identical expressions of puzzlement on his face. Who would have seen what had happened to Hermione, if not George? The Death Eaters were laughing, George was passed out and Ron… Ron was screaming! That was it. Ron was screaming!

"Thanks, George!" Harry said, leaping out of George's dream, and without a word of explanation to his patiently waiting army, he tumbled head-over-heels into Ron's dream.

Ron had his feet up on the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He had a chicken drumstick in his hand, but he was just twirling it around in his fingers. He looked worried.

"Ron!" Harry called, weaving rapidly between the tables "Ron!"

"Harry!" Ron called, leaping to his feet and dashing towards Harry "Harry! They've got Hermione! They've taken Hermione!" He began to shake Harry by the shoulders, his face white as a sheet.

"Ron! Calm down. Where did the Death Eaters take her?"

"Harry! They're going to kill her! They're going to kill Hermione!"

The world seemed to skid to a halt as Harry processed this information. Ron, looking stricken, was still, almost unconsciously, shaking him violently. Harry felt dizzy, like he was going to pass out, but now was not the time to faint. Maybe he could stop Voldemort before it was too late.

"How long ago did they take her?" he asked urgently.

"Um… 10 minutes, maybe more. I don't know how long I've been unconscious. The Death Eaters knocked me out."

"Thanks, Ron!"

"Please rescue her, Harry!" Ron called after him, as Harry shot out of his dream as fast as an arrow from a bow. His waiting army lifted their heads in anticipation as Harry shot out of the white cloud.

"Hurry up!" he shouted at them "Get behind me, we're going in!" Rowdily, the mass of people pushed and shoved their way behind Harry, vying for the best position. Without waiting to make sure they were all ready, Harry sprinted his way out of the dungeons, taking the stairs three at a time. He burst into the manor, and looked frantically around, trying to figure out what path he should take. Going with his gut instinct, he took the left hallway, then the right, then right again, until he found himself in front of the door to the room he had entered before. He took a deep breath. Was this the right one? He thrust his head through the door and looked around. Harry caught his breath. Two Death Eaters stood there, lazily flicking their wands, making the chairs zoom across the floor and stack neatly against the wall.

"Hurry up!" one complained "We don't have all day. We've got to be up in the Conference Room in ten minutes."

"Why's that?" a shorter, stockier, and stupider Death Eater asked, absentmindedly making a chair fly right through a wall.

"To murder the Mudblood of course" said the other exasperatedly, repairing the other one's damage "He wants us all there. Weren't you listening this morning?" The stupider one grunted and shrugged. Harry pulled his head out of the door, white with shock. Ten minutes. They were going to murder Hermione in ten minutes!

"Come on!" he almost screamed "We have to find a place called the Conference Room! It's where they hold meetings. We have ten minutes!"

He took off down a hallway. He was going to have to get insanely lucky.

"Potter, wait!" a woman's voice called to him. He ignored it and kept running. Now wasn't the time.

"Potter! You stop right now!" The severity in the tone made Harry skid to a halt and turn angrily to face the person who was talking to him. He felt like he knew here from somewhere. Grey hair, tightly lined face, thin crooked hands.

"Mr Potter, I died in that Conference room. They dragged me there from the dungeons. I know how to get there."

"Great! Can you show me, Ms…?"

"Burbage. Charity Burbage. Of course, Potter." Follow me. And she took off at a very fast pace down the corridor, left, right, left, left. Harry and his army sprinted after her. Suddenly, Harry realized who this person was. She was a teacher at Hogwarts. The Muggle Studies teacher. Hermione used to stay up until midnight trying to finish her homework. Hermione! Time was running out! They skittered to a halt outside a set of huge, green double doors. From inside came the murmuring of voices.

"Here we are" Charity Burbage said, gesturing for him to enter. Harry dove through the doors. Inside, Death Eaters filled almost every available space. In the centre stood Voldemort, the Elder Wand twirling in his hand. Hermione was bound and gagged, struggling weakly, propped up against a table. She, undoubtedly, had been tortured worst of everyone.

"Hermione!" Harry cried, running right through all the Death Eaters and coming to a standstill right beside her.

"Silence!" Voldemort cried, and a hush descended on the Death Eaters almost immediately "Since this Mudblood has refused to give me any information regarding the second of the Deathly Hallows, I have no choice but to dispose of her. Perhaps you will help me make my next Horcrux, Mudblood. If I can't have Hallows, I must have Horcruxes. What should my next Horcrux be? Nagini is dead. The rest are destroyed. Something more easily concealed, although Potter isn't here to ruin everything." Faintly, Hermione said something.

"What was that, Mudblood?" Voldemort asked, waving his wand so that her gag disappeared and she was able to talk.

"Harry's not gone like you might think" she whispered "He's watching you and one day, you'll die too. Then you'll get what you deserve." Harry couldn't help but smile. How true that was.

"Enough of this, Mudblood!" Voldemort shouted at her. He raised his wand. The tension in the air mounted to an almost tangible level. Harry sucked in a breath.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"


	11. Conquered

**A/N: Ok, here's another chapter! Still deciding how its gonna end. Two possible scenarios...**

The room exploded in green light. Harry moved before he had even thought about what he was doing. Taking a flying leap, he threw himself in front of Hermione, arms extended, like he was about to fly. His mouth was open in a silent scream. And the green light struck him full in the chest. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but definitely not this. He felt like he was being filled up with something warm. It shot out his eyes, his fingertips, his chest. All around him, there was a cacophony of noise. He opened his eyes. All eyes in the room were trained straight on him. Voldemort looked aghast, maybe even frightened. Hermione's words had been truer than he'd realized. He was glowing, with a green light that seared into his eyeballs. He knew he had one chance.

"Kill her and I'll kill you!" he shouted, extending his arm towards Voldemort. Then, he felt the warmth leave him, the blinding green light faded and the Death Eaters all began talking at once. Voldemort looked both outraged and terrified at the same time, trying to cover it up by yelling curses at anyone he could see. Several Death Eaters fell to the floor, petrified. Voldemort seemed to have forgotten Hermione for the moment and she lay, propped up against the table, eyes closed, and a slight smile on her face. Harry felt a desperate urge to loosen her bonds, seeing a new wound open up in her wrist where the ropes chafed it, but he stepped back. Peering out the window, he saw that the full moon was high in the sky. Surely Voldemort would have to sleep soon. He pursed his lips as he tried to imagine his mortal enemy doing something as commonplace as sleeping. He couldn't.

Still in a fit of rage, Voldemort dismissed the Death Eaters, hexing those who straggled. Harry perched himself on a chair and watched as Voldemort stood in the centre of the room, every so often looking over his shoulder nervously. Finally, he stormed out, leaving Hermione lying there. As Harry hastened to follow him, he was sure he heard his friend laugh.

Voldemort glided down the hallways and Harry and his army followed in hot pursuit. In a fit of rage, he petrified the first Death Eater he came across and put a Cruciatus curse on the second. He pushed through a set of swinging double doors. Harry found himself in a hostile-looking room, green, like everything else in the house, with hard marble surfaces and a chilly feel. Voldemort angrily sat down in a throne-like chair, his bony hands tightly curled around the arms. He glared out the window, the moonlight glinting off his snakelike eyes. The army crowded into the room, crushing so close to Voldemort that Harry had a paranoid worry that he might feel them.

"Come on. Sleep. Sleep," Harry willed, wondering as he said this whether Voldemort did sleep and whether this whole mission had been fruitless. He waited with bated breath. And waited. And waited. Voldemort continued to stare straight ahead. Harry tapped his foot against the ground. The moon rose higher in the sky. Eleven o'clock, Midnight, one o'clock. Harry was ready to give up and come back later when it happened. Voldemort's eyelids slid shut and, after a few, drawn out moments, a large white dream-cloud blossomed over his head. Harry almost screamed in excitement and, before the dream could end, he shouted at his army to get into the dream without delay.

Harry did not know what he had been expecting Voldemort's dream to look like, but what he found inside shocked and horrified him. It was darkness. Vivid, horrifying darkness that pressed on Harry's eardrums and eyes and choked him. Shadows of gruesome beings drifted past, twisted and disfigured. Cold fingers ran down Harry's spine. His army skittered backwards, hands over their ears. Up ahead, enveloped in a squirming, writhing darkness was Voldemort, wand in hand, shooting beams of pure black fire into the gloom, his robes melting into the blackness, so he almost seemed like a pale white head and hands floating in the air. The moment Voldemort caught sight of the army, he stopped short and directed his wand at them.

"All we have to do," he instructed his army quietly "Is wait until he wakes up, which shouldn't be long and then hold on to the dream with all your might. Just hold him off until he wakes up." Harry stepped forward.

"This is where it ends, Tom" he said, crossing his arms over is chest.

"I don't know what little hoax you came up with before, Potter, but I can assure you that nothing you are scheming will succeed."

"I don't think so, Tom. You see, I have something, this time, that you don't."

"Oh, Potter" Voldemort said mockingly "Is it love? Is it love again, that you so childishly believe will save you? It didn't save you last time, and it won't save you again!"

"Oh no. It's not love this time, Tom. This time, I have knowledge. Oh, and an army." In answer, the two hundred people behind him whooped and shouted abuse at Voldemort.

"Well, unfortunately for you, Potter, your plan has one tiny flaw. In order to foil your attempt to kill me, all I have to do is simply…wake up."

"Go ahead, Tom. Do it." Harry challenged "Wake up."

For the first time, a look of uncertainty flitted across Voldemort's snake-like face. He didn't know what to do. For several long, drawn-out seconds, Voldemort, Harry and the army faced each other. Then, Lily, James, Sirius, Fred, Cedric, Lupin, Tonks, and all his friends came to flank him, wands drawn.

"He's waking up" Tonks whispered in his ear "Get ready" And indeed, Harry noticed several long, hairline cracks tearing through the darkness, almost imperceptible. Voldemort hadn't noticed them. The cracks grew wider, splitting the darkness wider, revealing only a deeper darkness underneath. Voldemort noticed it now, and, panicked, he shot a curse into the crowd. And then, the world exploded.

"Hold on!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs and gripped onto the two people nearest to him, Lily and Fred, who in turn gripped onto the two people nearest to them. Then, everyone grabbed onto whatever shattering fragments of the dream they could hold. The air was filled with screaming as the pitch black explosion ripped through them, tugging them with as much force as a hurricane. But Harry held on, his knuckles turning white, his very bones feeling like they were being ripped apart, his eyes being compressed into his sockets. And then, it was over.

The first feeling Harry had after the blackness had exploded was being very squished. His head was buzzing with different thoughts. He had a piercing headache. And then, his eyes snapped open. His vision was ever so slightly tinted with red. He felt taller, leaner, and bonier. And he had a nauseous feeling in his stomach that often occurred when Voldemort possessed his mind. He associated it with evil. He felt resistance; he was not being allowed full control over the body he inhabited. Loud voices filled his mind, clamouring to know what do next.

_Harry, Harry, what do we do? What now?_

Harry relaxed his mind before thinking forcefully, _Be quiet! _The voices ceased almost instantly, and Harry could think properly again. But then, there was Voldemort. It was a battle of wills as one mind fought to supress the other.

_Help me, why don't you? _ Harry growled to his army, feeling his power begin to waver as Voldemort pushed against him. In one huge surge, his army rose up in Voldemort's mind and stormed Voldemort, compressing his consciousness, conquering his body and his brain. Voldemort put up a fight, but they were too strong, far too strong. But the effort to pin him down was enormous. They must act soon, or they would simply collapse and be forced out of Voldemort's body like water out of a whale's blowhole.

"All together!" he called out of Voldemort's mouth, and his army, through sheer force of will, ordered Voldemort's hand into his robe pocket, commanded it to draw out his wand and point it at Voldemort's chest, directly at his heart. For a second, just a second, Voldemort rose up in a tidal wave of fury, but his army supressed him and concentrated with all their might on instructing Voldemort's mouth to shape two three-syllable words.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"


	12. Saviour

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I'm still trying to think of how this should end. Standard Disclaimers apply. Enjoy and please review. :)**

In the chaos that followed, Harry was aware of somebody screaming. It was himself, countless others and maybe even Voldemort as the sheer force of the killing curse ripped the world to shreds. For a second, a mere second, there was the worst pain imaginable. It felt like he, along with a million other life forces were being torn to shreds, forced into each other and thrown in all different directions. He couldn't tell up from down, left from right, bent from straight. He forgot who he was, where he was, what on earth he was doing. He was suspended in mid-air and being pitched around deep space at the same time. The one constant was the green light which seared into him, permeated the very air.

And then, it was over. Blackness. Nothing but blackness. Compressing the eyeballs, wringing the brain. And silence. Dead silence. He felt like he was submerged a thousand feet underwater. He needed air, he needed light, he needed sound. And then, he broke the surface. Light flooded into his eyes, sound rushed into his ears, he heard the screaming of a thousand others and he was back. He found himself on all fours on the cold, hard ground, choking and trembling uncontrollably. His elbows gave out, and he found himself lying flat on his stomach, gasping and shaking. He pushed himself onto his back to get his bearings. The world was swimming in front of Harry's eyes.

Finally, he had recovered enough to take a look around. He saw that the floor was crammed with people, holding their heads or their stomachs. All, he could see, had clammy hands and were trembling violently. And there, he saw, was Voldemort. Or rather, his corpse. He was sprawled on the ground, only the whites of his eyes visible, just a shell of his former self. His bony hands still clutched his wand.

Panting, Harry got to his feet, moved over, and warily examined his former nemesis. Slowly, he was joined by his family and friends, and then by anyone else who wanted to take in the sight of the former Dark Lord, lifeless and limp, unable to do anyone any harm any more. Lily took Harry's hand and gently held it, James squeezed his shoulders, Sirius patted him enthusiastically on the back, spouting congratulations that Harry was too numb to hear.

They stood, keeping a silent vigil over Voldemort's corpse. Some people had sunk into chairs or curled up on the floor, but Harry and his family remained standing, waiting for a noise, a sound, a voice, anything. It came just as the sun was rising high in the sky. A gentle tap on the door, hesitant, nervous.

"M…my Lord?" came the tentative voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry automatically leapt back in fear.

"My Lord?" her voice came again, after a few seconds of silence "My Lord?" When there was no answer, the door handle slowly turned, and opened just a crack. Harry caught a fleeting glimpse of a shock of untamed black hair and a pale face.

"My…my Lord?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice. In that moment, Bellatrix Lestrange, the ruthless torturer and murderer, sounded like a small child. Harry braced himself as the door was pushed the rest of the way open. Bellatrix Lestrange's scream of horror echoed right through the mansion.

"My Lord? My Lord?" she whispered breathlessly. She crouched over his body, still too afraid to come close. She pulled out her wand.

"_Ennervate,"_ she whispered desperately "C'mon. _Ennervate. Ennervate. Ennervate!" _She continued to whisper the spell long after her wand had dropped from her hand and clattered on the floor. Then Bellatrix, breathing raggedly, rocked back on her heels and curled up in a ball, arms wrapped around her knees. Harry could only stare. This was the most out of character thing he could imagine Bellatrix doing. And then, two Death Eaters stormed into the room. Bellatrix leapt to her feet, inconspicuously wiped a tear from her cheek and began yelling abuse at the Death Eaters, her horrendous and terrifying former self back. They hastened to scramble out of the room, but obviously didn't do it quickly enough for Bellatrix, who shot a Cruciatus Curse after them. More Death Eaters swarmed in, and Bellatrix ranted, raved and tortured every single one of them. Harry beckoned to his army to leave the room and return to Dumbledore's office, smiling and offering thanks to them as they filed past.

It was only as he was getting ready to make his departure from the mortal world, that he realized that he had forgotten completely about his friends. How would they get out? He took off at a run to the Conference Room, where Hermione was bound and gagged. She was wriggling and fidgeting and working her bonds against the edge of the table. As he entered the room, he felt the effects of the dream potion wear off. It was like a layer of clothing had been peeled away. He felt more solid, yet somehow lighter. The aftereffects of the potion made him feel rather lightheaded and nauseous and he wanted nothing more than to return to the world of the deceased, back to his parents kitchen, perhaps for a game of wizard chess with Sirius and a plate of his Mum's brownies. But there was only one more thing left to do, and that was to find out the fate of his friends. Had his efforts to save them been in vain?

Suddenly, so that Harry almost stumbled and fell through the table in his fright, a masked and hooded Death Eater burst through the doors. He shut them quietly, pressed his ear to them to make sure nobody was following and turned towards Hermione. His expression was unreadable, concealed beneath that skull-like mask. Hermione stopped squirming immediately, putting on her brave and haughty expression that she used for anyone working for Voldemort. After appraising her for a few seconds, he drew his wand and pointed it directly at her. Hermione lost control for a second and whimpered and cringed. The Death Eater muttered the spell under his breath.

"_Diffindo"_

The ropes binding Hermione's wrists severed and fell to the ground. Hermione, after moving and twisting them to return the blood, reached up to her face and wrenched the gag off her mouth. Struggling to control her broken and tortured body, she hauled herself to her feet and leant heavily against the table. The Death Eater removed his mask and lowered his hood so they could look at each other face to face. It was Draco Malfoy. His pale, pointed face was sunken and gaunt. His hand still rested on the doorknob, ready to open it and bolt.

"Malfoy?" Hermione choked, her eyes narrowing in hatred "Here to finish me off? To gloat? How about you give me a wand and we'll fight properly? Or are you afraid I'll beat you?" Her voice cracked on the last syllable and she slumped against the wood. Harry saw she had bitten her lip so hard she had drawn blood.

"Things have changed, Mud…Granger." Malfoy snapped "This doesn't mean I like you. I'm returning a favour. You and Potter saved my life, so I owe you one. I'll leave the side door unlocked. It's off the kitchen. If you get caught, I'm not interfering. Take these…" he threw her a ring of keys "Let your friends out and get out. I mean it. I never want to see any of you again. Just so you'll have it on your conscience, they're probably going to kill me for this." And he threw his hood back up, placed the mask back on his face and left the room hurriedly, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Hermione stared at those keys for about half a minute, turning them over and over in her hand. Then, suddenly, she ran for it, limping and stumbling all over the place, using anything she could to support her. Harry saw that she had a twisted ankle, gashes all over her legs, and they might have been broken at some point. Several times, she slipped down the stairs, clinging onto the railing to support herself. Each time she landed too hard on her left leg, she muffled a scream of pain by shoving one fist into her mouth and biting down hard. Finally, though, she reached the dungeons and fumbled through the ring of keys until she found one that fit the lock. As she pushed the door open, there was a scuffling noise from within, as the other five prisoners tried to haul themselves into defensive positions, bracing themselves for a Death Eater attack. When they saw that it was Hermione, Ginny screamed softly.

Hermione ran down the stairs, forgetting all the pain she was in and crouched down beside them.  
>"Hermione," Ron whispered, smiling like he had received the best birthday present in the world "How did you get out?"<p>

"I'll explain later" she whispered, in a tone so like her old self that Harry almost expected her to add "Right after I go to the library."

And she held the ring of keys up in the air with a grin.

"We're going home."


	13. Escape

**A/N: Here is the next chapter! Been so excited about Pottermore, I haven't been writing this much, but here it is. Standard Disclaimer. **

Hermione dropped the key ring thrice as she tried to release her friends. There were about two dozen keys on the loop and as she fumbled through them, she cried in frustration "I can't do it! This would be so much easier if I had a wand!" Ron, who had already been freed, grabbed both her hands and stroked them.

"Shh," he whispered "Shh, it's ok, it's all right. Calm down." Hermione, tears pooling in her eyes, nodded, let out a shuddering sigh and grabbed the next key on the loop to try the chains that were binding George. Finally, when all six of them were chain-free and kneeling, shaking and rubbing their wounds, Hermione allowed herself to collapse. Gasping, sobbing and shaking, she balled up on the floor.

"It's all right, Hermione" Ron said, squeezing her heaving shoulders "This is the last leg. We've just got to get out of here." Hermione sat up and offered Ron a watery smile.

"You're right" she said "Almost there. Let's go."

As it happened, Luna had a broken leg from a recent encounter with the Death Eaters. It had swollen up and looked like it had snapped clean through.

"One of them stepped on it," she said matter-of-factly, "It hurt quite a lot. It still does, actually." But though she spoke in quite an offhanded way about the pain, her lip was bleeding from where she had bitten it, and her eyes looked glazed over. Neville, displaying strength nobody knew he had, swept Luna off her feet and followed the others up the dungeon steps, carrying her in his arms.

They looked a sorry sight, ducking and weaving through the manor, keeping to the shadows. They were cut, bruised and bleeding. Harry closed his eyes and hoped they would make it out in time.

"Malfoy said we had to find the kitchens" Hermione whispered to them.

"Where are the kitchens?" Ginny whispered back, glancing around to make sure nobody could hear them.

"I'm not sure" Hermione shrugged anxiously. They all froze, backs to the wall as they heard footsteps approaching at a rapid pace. The group held their breath and shrank into the wall. The footsteps came closer, definitely in their corridor now. They gripped each other tight as a tall burly figure came into view. Closer. Even closer, he was surely going to see them. But then, he ran past, robes flapping and skidded down the next corridor. His friends simultaneously exhaled in relief. Harry could see Hermione's hand fluttering anxiously in Ron's. Neville looked exhausted from the strain of carrying Luna. And then, from the corner the Death Eater had disappeared behind, they heard the sound of a voice raised in anger.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the male voice boomed and they heard a sharp slapping sound "Get upstairs. Miss Lestrange says you're to move the body." And the Death Eater stormed back around the corner, thankfully in the other direction.

George sidled up to the corner and peered around. For a moment, he just stood there, squinting down the passage. Then, he turned and whispered to the others, "C'mon. There's the kitchen!" They all grinned from ear to ear and rushed to follow George down the passage. The kitchen was deserted when they entered.

"Who d'you think that Death Eater was yelling at?" Ginny asked, scanning the room for signs of life.

"I don't know, but they must already have left for upstairs" Neville grunted, beginning to struggle under Luna's weight.

"We didn't see them pass us" she replied uncertainly.

"Maybe they Apparated" Ron suggested.

"Ron, don't you ever think?" Hermione reprimanded "The one thing Voldemort feared was death. He wouldn't have wanted just anyone to be able to Apparate into his house, especially when he was in such a vulnerable state."

"Ah" said a tiny, squeaky voice from behind them, making them all shriek and jump about a foot in the air "Master Malfoy told Flossy you would be coming."

It was a very small, very frail-looking house-elf. She looked very stooped and sunken.

"If you'll excuse me, sirs and misses, we don't have much time. That Death Eater will be wondering why Flossy isn't upstairs helping to move the body."

"Flossy," said Hermione, lowering herself down to the house elf's height "Did he hit you? That Death Eater who came in before."

"No, miss. He slapped the table. Flossy was too far away for him to be bothered walking." Hermione exhaled in relief. Flossy ushered them towards the door, but Hermione wasn't done.

"Why don't you run away with us, Flossy?" she asked "You don't have to stay here and take the Death Eaters cruelty. When Hogwarts is rebuilt, you can work there. You'll have pay, time off, sick leave…" She trailed off hopefully, but Flossy shook her head.

"'Tis not a house-elf's place, miss" she said firmly "To go running off with whatever master offers her the best working conditions. Flossy must stay here and serve the Death Eaters free her or she dies."

Hermione looked crestfallen.

"Are you sure?" she asked

"Flossy is sure, miss" the house-elf said, patting Hermione's hand "Now you must leave, sirs and misses. Come on." And, with one hand resting lightly on the small of Ron's back, she shunted them out the door. All six of them tripped forward and gasped as they were overwhelmed by the forgotten sensations of light and fresh air.

"It's beautiful" said Ginny, glancing at the clouds, eyes wide "I'd forgotten." And then, it seemed to sink in that they were free. There was a huge stretch of open field before them, which disappeared into a copse of tall trees. George was off first, limping and stumbling away from the manor. Neville and Luna, then Ginny and then finally Hermione and Ron stumbled after him. The six of them took off, laughing quietly, falling several times, but always getting back up again. Contentedly, Harry watched them leave. He knew they would get away safely. Everybody was too busy to go after them. So, he turned his face skywards and let himself drift away, up, up, up through the clouds. He landed very unsteadily on the hardwood floor of Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was smiling at Harry as though there was nobody on Earth he was more proud of. Harry sank into a squashy chair opposite Dumbledore and let himself sink into the cushions. He had never, ever felt more tired in his life.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, beaming "Well done. Well done indeed. Your army came back through the pensieve singing your praises. I believe you have just saved the mortal world." Harry grinned, eyes half closed.

"He's gone" he mumbled "And I got them out."

Harry wasn't sure at precisely what point he had fallen asleep, he only knew that at some point, Dumbledore's office began to swim before his eyes, and the next thing he knew he was curled up in bed at his parent's house. He had a pounding headache and all he wanted to do was burrow down under the covers, but he forced himself to roll out of bed, shove on his glasses and stumble out the door. He had slept in his clothes, he noticed and they were crumpled and wrinkled. His hair was so messy it could have put his father's best efforts to shame and he felt like he had been scrunched into a little ball and unfurled again. He stumbled twice going down the stairs. His stomach growled as he smelled a delicious aroma wafting up from downstairs. Was it pancakes? Bacon? His brain was to muddled to figure it out.

He arrived downstairs to find a crowd of people waiting for him, champagne glasses in hand. When they saw him, a huge cheer went up and he found himself mobbed by admirers.

He was far too groggy to process anything that was going on. Twice, he managed to force the words 'Stop, please' out of his mouth, but to no avail. The crowd continued to press tighter and tighter, hugging him, congratulating him. A blur of faces swam before him. Fred Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Dean, Seamus, Charlie Weasley…

Slowly, over the course of the morning, his headache and foggy mind began to clear. He began to _see _the faces he was talking to. He managed to shunt his way over to the table and sit down on a chair. His mother, it seemed, had cooked piles and piles of food to feed the guests and he heartily tucked in. Just as he was feeling back to normal, the door to the house creaked slowly open. Harry barely looked up from his food to acknowledge the new arrival. He couldn't see him, anyway. The swarm of visitors in the room was so thick that all that was within his vision was a sea of heads. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the crowd parting for a redheaded figure.

"Hey, Fred" he mumbled, his mouth full of eggs. And then he turned. This newcomer wasn't Fred.

It was George Weasley.


	14. Life

**Hey! Thanks to all my brilliant reviewers, who get so enthused about this story! You guys are fantastic! Standard Disclaimer.**

"George?" Harry cried, kicking his chair over in his haste to stand up "Why…What are you doing here?" George half-grinned.

"Bit stupid really." George replied, shrugging " I thought we were all out of the woods when we reached a little town. Of course, I ran up ahead to see if there was someone who had any spare food, and utterly failed to take into account that some of Voldemort's servants may not have heard that their master was dead."

"But… all the Death Eaters would have been summoned by Dark Mark, wouldn't they?" Harry asked, confused.

"No, not Death Eaters. Dementors." George said with a wry grin.

"But…" Harry stammered, unable to comprehend, "Dementors don't kill…"

"No. But they all swarmed on me when I entered the town. The thing people don't know about Dementor attacks is that the victim remains fully conscious through the entire process, and remains conscious afterwards, but in some sort of distorted reality. It's horrible though…"

And he proceeded to describe what happened after the dementors had swarmed on him. As they had sucked out his soul, he had felt cold, drained, empty. He had begun to see horrible visions. His time at Voldemort's manor relived a thousand times. Fred's death. The battle of Hogwarts. And when the Dementors moved away, he was left alone with those thoughts. He could see people crowding around him, but when he tried to explain what was happening all he could do was shudder and rock back and forth. He guessed that the Dementor had still left a miniscule portion of his soul in his body, as he was able to come to the next life. The townspeople had seen this all before, of course, and they knew that it was better to end the person's life rather than make them suffer, so with one quick 'Avada Kedavra', it was all over for George.

"Wow…I'm sorry." Harry said, biting his lip "Shouldn't you have some… ill effects, though?"  
>"Yeah" George said "If I stand in direct light, I'm almost transparent."<p>

"And the others? Are they all right?"

"Yeah, they're fine. They got out in time, thank God."

The two boys stood in the crowded kitchen in silence for a moment, before George spoke up.

"Thanks for rescuing us, though. Fred told me all about it. That was amazing!"

"Don't mention it."

"Ginny was so upset, you know. When you died. Afterwards, she swore that if we made it out of Voldemort's place alive, she would never date another boy. She cried for days and days. The Death Eaters tortured her worst, at first, just to get her to shut up." Harry cringed internally at his description.

"Do you think she means it?" Harry asked "When she says she'll never date another boy?"

"I think so, actually" George replied "When we were kids, she said that if Mum didn't get her tickets to a Weird Sisters concert, she wouldn't speak for a month, and she didn't. Not a word. We tried everything." Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased or unhappy by this idea. Did he want Ginny to stay with him, or did he want her to be happy? It was an obvious answer, of course, but hard to accept. Anyway, he couldn't do anything to interfere. He had to let what happened happen.

Life, or death, went on as usual after that busy day. He was used to total strangers greeting him in the street, although it felt better now that they were recognizing him for something that he had done, rather than something that had happened to him. There were no shortage of people to hang out with, and he could enjoy the new experience of having real parents. He continued to keep an eye on his friends, though, through Dumbledore's pensieve, and he would spend many a night curled up on Hermione's armchair, watching her read by the fire, or leaning against Ron's bookcase, watching him put up new posters of the Chudley Cannons. He could see how hard they were trying to move on from their terrible experience and adapt to normal life once more, but their time at Voldemort's manor had taken its toll on all of them. Hermione and Ginny woke up screaming from nightmares, Luna, her mind affected from all the torture, occasionally collapsed on the floor and had a seizure which not even the experts at St Mungo's could control. Ron and Neville grew more and more subdued, angry even. Not all of the time, just enough so that Ron's posters needed to be replaced every few weeks, owing to the fact that he kept ripping them from the walls. But there were quiet moments, the moments when one could forget that their past had been anything but regular and normal. Yes, there were always some of those.

Hermione and Ron married each other when they were nineteen years old. Ron proposed to her under the stars, they kissed and had their wedding in the snow-covered area in Hogsmeade.

Luna and Neville married as well, under a beautiful archway adorned with little white flowers. Ginny, true to her word, never married, never even went out on a date. She threw all her energy into her work, a journalist for the Daily Prophet. She was a volunteer flying instructor at Hogwarts as well.

Harry was there for all of those precious moments in their lives. When Hermione and Ron were in a small room in St. Mungos, holding their firstborn girl, Rose, in their arms, Harry was there. When Neville swept Luna off her feet and carried her into the new house that he had saved and saved for years to buy, Harry was there. When Ginny, standing with a group of eager little first years gathered around her, talked about Quidditch with a passion, Harry was there.

He watched them grow, watched them become the adults that he would never be. He watched them have the kids that he would never have.

Hermione and Ron had three children. Two girls and a boy. Rose Ariana Weasley, Sophia Minerva Weasley and Harry Draco Weasley. Harry had been present for the naming of their youngest, and he had found it rather amusing. It had taken place in front of their living room fire, with the tiny baby rocking in his cradle.

"I want to name him after someone" Hermione had said, touching his tiny hand

"Ok" said Ron, almost nodding off.

"Who, then? Fred? George? Charlie?"

" 'T's obvious innit?" yawned Ron, stretching

"No. What are you thinking of?"  
>"Harry, of course. We've gotta name him Harry."<p>

"Ron!" Hermione gaped, wide-eyed "That's brilliant!"

"Always the tone of surprise" Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"And for a middle name?" she asked, a few minutes later.

"I dunno. Fred? George? Charlie?" Ron suggested

"Well…" Hermione said nervously "I've been thinking. What about…well, what about…Draco?"

"What?" Ron spat "Naming our child after ferretface? No bloody way!"

"Ron, he saved my life. He rescued me. He saved all of us."

"Hermione" Ron sputtered "You can't be serious? After all those times he called you Mudblood? After all those times he cursed you and taunted you?"

"It's just an idea" Hermione said, toying with the hem of her dress.

But Ron had conceded, as he usually did, and their baby became Harry Draco Weasley.

One day, early September, Harry was watching Ginny as she sat, hunched over the kitchen table, working on her next article for the Daily Prophet, concerning the controversial win of the Chudley Cannons in that year's Quidditch World Cup semi-final. She was sucking on the end of her peacock-feather quill as she struggled to finish the concluding sentence. Suddenly, she gave a strangled gasp, almost as if she had seen something amazing and then gripped the table. Within the next five seconds, she had keeled over sideways and landed with a thud on the floor. But not before she had fixed her eyes directly on Harry's face.


	15. Reunion

**Hey Guys! Here's my new chapter. Hope you like! Thanks to laughandlove for reviewing every single chapter for a long time! **

**Once upon a time, I owned Harry Potter...then I woke up  
><strong>

"Ginny!" Harry cried out, reaching to grab her hand. Of course, his hand passed straight through her, but he knew it was too late. Her eyes were blank and staring.

"Ginny," he whispered, half sobbing, half-smiling. And after just sitting in the dead silence for a couple of minutes, he let himself drift upwards, through the grey mist, back into Dumbledore's office to find Ginny. He barely paused to say good-bye to Dumbledore as he rushed on through. He skittered through the door, into his parent's house.

"Have you seen Ginny?" he asked them hurriedly, popping his head through the kitchen door.

"No" Lily said, "But why would you need…?" But Harry was already gone. Maybe she had gone to the Great Hall? That's where George waited for Fred. But she wasn't there. There wasn't a single mop of carrot-red hair anywhere to be seen in the crowd. She wasn't anywhere at Hogwarts, though he ran up and down the winding staircase several times and checked every single room. She wasn't out at the Quidditch Pitch, though he borrowed Alex Bower's megaphone and shouted for her. She wasn't in Hogsmeade, in any of the shops.

And then, he found her when he searched The Burrow. He knew it from the moment he saw a curl of smoke spiralling out of the chimney, and the silhouette of a long-haired head at the window. Harry smiled and ran silently and swiftly to the door. He cursed the door, which opened with a slight creak. Ginny's head whipped around, but she turned back away, dismissing the noise as the wind or a small animal. Good, Harry thought, and pushed the door the rest of the way open. He crept silently along the carpeted floorboards, snuck up behind her chair and clapped his hands over her eyes.

Ginny shrieked, jumped about a foot in the air and tumbled over the arm to face him.

"Harry?" she whispered, staring into his eyes. Then: "HARRY!" Her shriek could surely be heard miles away, as she threw herself into his arms. She had grown tall in the many years he had been away, so tall she had to stoop to hug him. He hugged her back, pulling her close. When they finally pulled away, he took a good look at her. He was expecting her to look older, and despite the fact that he had seen her quite clearly when she had been alive, he had been clinging onto the last desperate hope that she might have become a little younger once she had died. Sadly, no. She was tall, slender and looking everything like a woman in her late-twenties should. And here he was, a mere boy beside her. Just seventeen, bespectacled and scrawny. A child.

Ginny didn't care. She sobbed into his shoulder, her arms around his neck.

"I've missed you so much!" she breathed.

"I've been there." Harry replied, squeezing her hand.

In the afterlife, the world seemed a brighter place, better all-around for Ginny's arrival. The sun seemed to shine more brightly, the birds sang more sweetly and the people smiled more warmly. Everything was peaceful and happy. He brought Ginny home to meet his parents, an experience he never thought he'd have. Lily grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug.

"It's so good to finally meet you!" she said, wringing her hand.

"I'm glad I can meet you too!" Ginny said, hugging back, and for a moment, they looked like sisters, two red-headed girls entwined in an embrace.

After she had met James, and greeted Sirius, the first thing she enquired about was her family.

"I know you've been visiting…the other place. Well…before I died, Mum was sick in St Mungos. I was just wondering…is it possible that I could see how she's going?"

"Of course," he said immediately "If you'd like." Of course, he didn't tell Ginny, or anyone this, but he felt immensely glad she had asked. He felt an irrepressible yearning to go back there again. As much as he tried to distance his mind from the mortal world, the more he felt like he was tied there, connected somehow, with an invisible bond. Every moment he wasn't among the living, his mind was half there. He couldn't escape from it.

"_Experiencing too much of the other world in one go, especially when that world is unpleasant, can drive one into madness." _Dumbledore had said. Is that what had happened? Had he gone mad? He shook off the thought. The very idea was preposterous! He was perfectly sane and normal.

Wasn't he?

Dumbledore looked up silently as Harry dragged Ginny through his office door. He had obviously been deeply immersed in a thick book entitled _Heroic Deeds of Medieval Magical Dragon Slayers. _

He looked dismayed when he saw the youngest Weasley.

"Harry, I thought you would have known better" he said solemnly "Would you really bring her into the mortal world? You know that we do not belong there. You were an exception. Your parents were an exception. We must not continue to delve into a realm that does not belong to us."

"Sir, please" Harry begged "Just once. For her mother." Dumbledore sighed.

"All right. For her mother. But just this once. I cannot stress that enough."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much!" Harry said and ushered Ginny over to the pensieve, where she lowered her face into the shifting surface and was gone. Harry followed her, relishing the familiar sensation of falling through a thick grey mist.

As the room materialised around him, he saw a cosy little hospital ward. Four beds were lined up along the wall, each surrounded by colourful pictures and knick-knacks.

On the far bed was a woman whose entire face was green and covered in little red spots. On the next bed over was a little girl whose head had swollen to twice the normal size. In the next bed was an old woman whose hair was moving about of its own accord and trying to strangle a table lamp. And in the fourth and final bed lay Molly Weasley. There were no obvious signs of illness, Harry thought as he watched her, but her face looked sunken, her skin looked waxy and she seemed to have lost a lot of weight.

Ginny crouched down beside her bed and laid her hand over her mother's wrist.

"Mum?" she asked, laying her head down on the bed, her hair fanning over her arm.

"She can't hear you" Harry said, kneeling down beside her.

"I know." Ginny replied.

They waited there for another couple of hours. Molly Weasley was dead to the world, whether asleep or unconscious, he didn't know. Just when Harry was beginning to wonder if Ginny would ever move, two people entered the room. One was a St Mungo's healer and the other was Arthur Weasley, almost completely bald now, with wrinkles lining his face.

"How is she?" he asked the healer, stooping to pat Mrs Weasley's hand.

"She's in a stable condition at the present, but her system's failing rapidly. Our healers have tried any number of spells to counteract it, but the curse is relentless. She has time left though, Mr Weasley. I'll leave you two in peace."

Arthur Weasley went to sit beside Molly's bed, almost exactly where Ginny was, so she had to leap out of the way to avoid him.

Arthur took Molly's hand.

"Come on dearest. You can pull through this" he said. Feeling he was looking in on a very private moment, Harry averted his eyes, staring instead at the woman whose hair was trying to strangle the table lamp and wondered idly if it would turn on the woman next.

He felt Ginny's hand on his shoulder, light as an autumn leaf.

"Come on, Harry. I think we should go." Ginny murmured.

As she said this, Harry felt a gut-wrenching twinge in his stomach. It felt like he had just got here. He didn't want to go back. Why go back to death, when he could stay among the living?

That was when he realized that there was something seriously wrong.


	16. Trapped

**A/N Here's another chapter! Thanks to all the people who've reviewed. Hope you like it. Enjoy. **  
><strong>I don't own Harry Potter.<br>**

Of course. He should have seen it before. Or, at the very least, he should have listened to Dumbledore, who had seen it well before him. His heart started thumping in his chest as he came to this realization. He sank down on an empty chair and put his head in his hands.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, laying a hand on his shoulder, concern colouring her tone "Are you all right?"

"No," he moaned, and fisted his fingers in his hair. Ginny, obviously confused, knew better than to try and work any more information out of him, and sat down on the chair next to him.

Harry's mind felt like it was about to explode as he battled with the gut-wrenching nausea and the horrifying realizations that were battling for dominance within him. He realized it now. Years and years of travelling back and forth between the afterlife and the mortal world had done something to him. It had played with his mind, tied him to both worlds. He was unable to leave either without needing to return to the other. He should have listened when Dumbledore told him not to return. After all, when had Dumbledore ever been wrong?

Was it going to be like this forever? Was he ever going to be at peace?

And just at that moment, he felt a horrible sense of detachment from both worlds.

Ginny must have seen his white face, his trembling hands, for she leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Come on, Harry. Let's go back."

She grabbed his hand, and together, they soared upwards, through the swirling grey mist, and back into Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore saw immediately the way Harry was stooped over, the way his legs could barely support his weight, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Ah, Harry. I knew this would happen," he said, shaking his head. Harry didn't reply. What could he say? That he should have stopped him from going? But he had tried. And Harry, as was typical of him had been stubborn and obstinate.

Dumbledore, instead of shouting, as Harry would have preferred, just stared at him with eyes full of regret.

"Why?" was all Harry could manage to say.

"Harry? What's going on?" Ginny demanded, grabbing his shoulders and staring him straight in the eye.

"I spent too long watching you" Harry mumbled "I'm stuck between the worlds. I'm never going to belong."

"So…what you're saying is…?"

"If I stay here, I'm going to want to go 'down there' and if I stay there, I'm going to want to come back here. And there's nothing I can do about it." Harry expected Ginny to look sympathetic, or worried or upset. He was not expecting a look of steadfast determination to grow on her face and for her to shake his shoulders violently and say to him forcefully "Harry Potter, you snap out of it! I'm going to get you out of this mess if it's the last thing I ever do! But you're not going to sit around looking like a corpse while I do it!" And while she continued to rant and rave, Harry shot a glance at Dumbledore and saw that he was smiling.

"Right, Professor," Ginny said, slamming both her palms on Dumbledore's desk "Books. What have you got on this kind of thing?"

Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, moved to his bookshelf and brought down three huge stacks of books.

"Right" he said, separating those stacks into smaller piles "These here," pointing to five huge volumes "contain everything we know about this life. These three here are about addictions. These two are about connections between the moral world and the afterlife. And these two are about ways to 'move on'. Just as a backup."

"Thanks, Professor!" Ginny said, using her wand to levitate the huge volumes out the door "I'll bring him back when he's cured." And she hustled Harry out of the room.

With a thump, she let the books drop onto the table, sending up a choking cloud of dust.

"Right" she said, tossing him a book, which he fell backwards off his chair trying to catch "You start with that, and I'll," she picked up the heaviest volume "start with this."

They sat around his parent's kitchen table, flicking through the dusty volumes. Harry's eyes grew tired, and he struggled to keep them open. He was just about to let his head loll onto the table when he caught sight of Ginny, who was physically pushing her eyelids up to stay awake, and propped his head up on his hand and continued to read.

He found nothing, after hours and hours of searching. Nothing, nothing and still nothing. A lot of unhelpful information about people who were addicted to the afterlife, and a particularly gruesome section about people who were addicted to the Cruciatus Curse.

They finished all the books about the afterlife in eight hours. They completed the books about addictions in four and the ones about the connections between the worlds in three. Finally, they moved to the books about ways to 'move on'. Ginny took one, Harry took the other, and although the pages were swimming before both of them, they began to read.

A lot of these ways looked painful, Harry thought as he scanned the pages. They were either horrible curses or spells gone wrong. There were a lot of particularly gruesome images of bodies exploding in a cloud of black dust or of the tentacles of an ethereal devil's snare-like plant twining itself around people until they disintegrated. Harry thought he wouldn't want to try any of these in a million years. Besides, if he returned to the mortal world as someone else, he would be Harry Potter anymore; he wouldn't remember his Mum, his Dad, Sirius, Ron, Hermione or Ginny.

And then something caught his eye. A little illustration of a well, made of red brick with ivy twining up its sides. Where had he heard of this before? His tired mind didn't seem to be processing information well, for he knew he had heard of it somewhere before. Only, where? He buried his head in his folded arms as he tried to remember… and promptly fell asleep.

In his dream, he was lost in a forest full of twisting trees that reached out to grab him with their clawed branches. He was running away from them, dodging, ducking and weaving. And then, out of nowhere, a well came into view, a spotlight shining onto it. He could see a glimmer of water in its depths. And as he bent over the edge, gasping for breath, a voice drifted up from the depths. His father's voice.

"_It's in a place that you can't get to just by opening a door. If you dive into that well, rumour has it; you are able to be reborn again…reborn again…reborn again…reborn again."_

And then the water at the bottom of the well started to bubble. It bubbled and steamed and rose to the top of the well and just as Harry was going to be engulfed…he woke up.

The little painted image of the well seemed to glow as brightly as a little sun and for a moment, he had to blink his eyes against its shine. Then, when he finally returned to himself, and the glow of the picture had faded, he began to think clearly.

Of course! It had been James Potter who had told him about the well, a lifetime ago it seemed. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but now…

He read the rest of the section about the well about three times. It was in a remote place, between the mountains of thunder and lightning, surrounded by a dense forest. If one were to dive into that well, one would be reborn into a new life on earth, mortal once more, with no memories of their past life.

At the thought of leaving everyone here, he felt sick to his stomach and a lump rose in his throat, but at the thought of being caught between worlds for all eternity, he felt a gripping terror overtake him.

It was only as he saw Ginny, her red hair falling across her face, drooping over the page as she searched desperately for something to help him, that he made his decision.

"Ginny," he said quietly.

"Huh?" she asked, jerking awake. Her eyes were red and swollen.

"Read this" he said, and pushed the book towards her. Her tired eyes scanned the words, and he wondered how much she was really taking in.

"Ginny" he said again.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I want to go to that well."


	17. Years

**Here's the next chapter! This took a while, because I honestly couldn't think of ways for wizard's to die, if not by curse, horrific accident or magic gone wrong. I don't own Harry Potter, that all belongs to J.K Rowling. Please review, as usual, and thanks to my brilliant reviewers! **

"What?" Ginny asked incredulously

"I want to go to that well."

"Harry! You can't be serious? After all that trouble you went through to make sure we were all together? You want to throw it all away?" Harry shrugged.

"Of course I don't want to leave you, but wouldn't it be nice? To start over, I mean. We wouldn't have any memory of Voldemort, you wouldn't have any memories of torture. I don't know. It's just a thought." Harry sighed in resignation, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, before Ginny said, "I think we should wait for the rest of them. Ron, Hermione, Luna and the rest, I mean. It would be mean to leave them to face the afterlife alone. I'm sure we can keep your predicament at bay for that long. And then…well, we'll see."

Harry sighed in relief. Ginny had just put what he was thinking into words, and far more eloquently than he could have managed.

"That's a brilliant idea" he said gratefully, moving to give her a hug.

"Not really. I just don't want to lose you" she whispered.

Harry became much more cheerful after that. He may have become enslaved by a curse of his own making, but at least he had a strategy laid out, a way to take each day as it came. Ginny was there by his side every minute, distracting him, and with her there, he almost forgot about the curse. She, Harry, Lily, James and Sirius took it in turns watching over their living friends.

Molly Weasley passed on three weeks later. Everyone had been expecting it, but none of them were prepared for the moment when she arrived on their doorstep, looking as plump and motherly as she had done when Harry had known her. Harry barely had time to grin at her before she was enfolded in hugs from two red-haired girls, both sobbing with delight.

"Mum! Mum!" Ginny gasped, burying her head in her mother's shoulder "Thank God!"

"Thank you." Lily said solemnly "Thank you for being a second mother to my son." Molly returned both their embraces, her red hair joining the circle, making a sort of ginger halo.

One thing was for sure, they were never short of food in the house after Molly arrived. She was forever in the kitchen, or the garden, or the bedrooms, tidying, cooking, trimming, making up for the lost time in life. She loaded up the table at every meal time with so much food that it was a wonder there was any room for the plates. Every time one of them left for the pensieve, she insisted on gorging them with as much food as possible, in case they missed a meal. She continually insisted that both Harry and Ginny looked peaky and overexerted, despite the fact that they were probably the healthiest they had been in a long time and the garden was full of beautiful, magical plants that she had grown from seeds.

In the mortal world, life was going splendidly also. Hermione and Ron had just send little Harry Weasley off to Hogwarts, and Luna and Neville had just watched their first child, Mercutio, become inducted into the Ministry of Magic, as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister. All four of them were approaching their fiftieth year. Sometimes, Harry ventured to Hogwarts, to see how his friend's children were getting on.

Little Harry had inherited his mother's brains and his uncle's talent for pranking, and he most definitely used those as a force of evil. He spent more time inside detention than out. Rose and Sophia both held positions of authority, Rose was head girl and Sophia was the Hufflepuff prefect. Harry was surprised to see that none of Ron and Hermione's children had been sorted into Gryffindor. Rose was a Slytherin, Harry was a Ravenclaw, and Sophia, as stated above was a Hufflepuff. Neville and Luna's youngest, Atticus was in Hufflepuff as well. The Hogwarts houses were still rivals. Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly at war for the house cup. It sometimes escalated to duelling in the corridors, which usually earned the two houses bottom positions. Harry noted, with a grin of amusement, that his portrait had been hung in the Great Hall, marking the spot he had died, and that someone (he suspected Weasley involvement) had charmed a long and curly moustache onto his face. He saw a row of teachers lined up along the Great Hall table each morning and night, not one of whom he recognized, except, perhaps, Professor Binns, who continued to preach away to the History of Magic classes in his old, droning voice that Harry had become so adept at tuning out.

People passed on, gradually. They became accustomed, in the afterlife, to finding a new friend or family member there every so often. Arthur Weasley, Professor McGonagall, Mr Ollivander, Hagrid. Once, they even saw Sir Cadogan, obviously with no memory of them, since they had known him in portrait form, gallop past on his little white pony, waving his too-large sword around and clanking his armour.

Sometimes, they caught a glimpse of someone in the afterlife who was not particularly friendly. Vernon Dursley, Lucius Malfoy, Dolores Umbridge. They were also approached by a grey-haired Gilderoy Lockhart, still with his dazzling white smile. Deluded, as usual, he was convinced that, even in the afterlife, everyone was hankering after his autograph, and he insisted on signing copies of photographs for everyone, which Harry promptly threw in the rubbish. Lucius Malfoy, Harry was disgusted to find, was still the same pureblood-supremacist and snobby aristocrat that he had been when Harry was alive, and Dolores Umbridge was teetering on the brink of utter madness, still raving about centaurs. Harry steered clear of all of them.

Ever since he had destroyed Voldemort, Harry was always fearful that his spirit would return and wage war on all of them. Ginny had reassured him that, since Voldemort was so evil, combined with the fact that he had made so many horcruxes, he had no soul left that could move on to the next life, but that didn't stop Harry worrying. When he had visited 'King's Cross Station' after Voldemort had tried to kill him in the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort had been there, as a shrunken and deformed monster, but still there. What if he had come to the next life like that and had found a way to regain power? His fear followed him everywhere, even to the mortal world, when he chose to venture there. Everyone seemed to take Voldemort's face; every shadow seemed to conceal Voldemort's form. But, he reasoned with himself, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He had defeated Voldemort time and time again, who was to say he couldn't do it here? That thought reassured him, and allowed him to live as if nothing were the matter.

Ten, twenty, thirty years they lived through, sometimes in the afterlife, sometimes haunting the mortal world. It was sometimes disconcerting to realize that their living friends had aged almost beyond recognition, when Harry himself looked but seventeen and Ginny was still only in her mid-twenties. Ron had wiry grey hair that was receding, very much as his father's had done. He wore a pair of thick glasses on his nose and his face and hands were lined with wrinkles. Hermione was thin and withered, her hair white and wispy. Her hands and face too were lined with wrinkles. She had thin, oval shaped glasses, that she frequently wore perched right on the tip of her nose. They had both retained their teenage personalities. Ron was still very much into his food, his Quidditch and his comedy, while Hermione could frequently be found in front of one of her two enormous and overstuffed bookshelves, or at a wooden desk with a quill in hand.

All three of their kids had grown up and had children of their own. Sophia had recently become engaged to Atticus Longbottom.

The Ministry of Magic had been redesigned entirely, by Percy Weasley, no less, and it had become a source of good, rather than evil.

Then, one day, Hermione came home with some news.

"Ron, I was at St Mungo's today" she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down on it.

"Mmm. And…?' Ron asked absentmindedly, chopping up carrots for that night's dinner.

"I have cancer. On my heart." Ron's face turned ashen, but he did his best to keep a smile on his face.

"Well, that's no biggie. When are you going to get it taken out?"

"I told them to leave it." Hermione said, and Ron, if possible, grew even paler "I don't want to spend months hooked up to tubes, even if it will guarantee me a longer life. And Muggles, they don't have cures for cancer like we do. It just seems like a nice, well not nice, but normal way to go. They'll give me painkillers and everything, but I don't want to go through months of hospitalization, when I know I've only got a few years left in me anyway." Ron hadn't said a word through this entire speech. Finally he managed to find his voice.

"No, Hermione. Don't do that. Think of the kids! Think of the grandkids! I mean, little Ginny is just five! How will she take to losing her Grandma like that? And if you won't think of them, think of me! What will I do? How do you expect me to watch you suffer, when I know the healers could be doing something about it?"

"Ron, I told you," Hermione said exasperatedly "I won't be suffering! There's spells and medicine for all that. I swear, I'll be just like I always was. You won't even notice." Hermione's tone was light. She didn't seem to be worried at all about the prospect of death.

"And I'll get to see Harry again. And Ginny. And Mum and Dad."

"You really believe that?" Ron said "How do you know we'll see them again?"

"Well…do you remember that time in Voldemort's manor, when he was about to kill me?" she asked. Ron flinched, but nodded. "Well, just as he had said the Killing Curse, and that awful jet of green light was speeding towards me, Harry came out of nowhere, literally from nowhere, and absorbed the curse. He was glowing all green, and he looked like a cross between a memory and a ghost. He reached out to Voldemort and he said 'Kill her and I'll kill you" and then disappeared. And those dreams we all had. Do you remember those dreams?" Ron nodded slowly. Hermione reached across the table and took his hand in both her own.

"It'll be all right, Ron. You'll see." There was silence for a moment. Then Ron said,

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Ron."


	18. Peace

**Hey guys, here's the next chapter. Thanks to all my brilliant reviewers, and please remember to review, review, reivew! And Harry Potter does not belong to me, but you already know that.  
><strong>

Over the next month, Ron was the very image of the perfect husband. He did everything for Hermione, even when she was perfectly able-bodied. He made sure dinner was ready every night, he cleaned the house, he made sure that Hermione always had a comfortable chair to sit on.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione would often say "I can do things for myself!" Ron, whenever she said this, would tilt her back in his arms and kiss her.

"All right then" he said "Would you do something for me?"

"Of course" Hermione replied

"Go lie down and relax"

The change in Hermione was so gradual, Harry hardly even noticed it. But, when he looked at photos in their house, photos taken from before Hermione had taken ill, the change astounded him. He could see all her bones through her skin, and her veins. Her eyes had a starved look and her skin had turned almost transparent, like a ghost's. Harry knew Ron was trying to be brave, supporting Hermione till the very end, but he knew how much Ron was suffering. Hermione was convinced that this was the best thing for all of them, but she never saw Ron cry himself to sleep every night. She never saw him hunch over the kitchen sink, shaking and sweating, every time he was alone.

They were never lonely though, that much could be said. Their children, grandchildren, Neville, Luna and their kids visited all the time. Nobody had told the littlest grandchildren, Ginny and Lissa what was to become of Hermione, but the older ones knew, and had been sworn to secrecy.

One day, little Lissa Longbottom, daughter of Sophia and Atticus, was sitting cross-legged by Hermione on a little chair.

"Granma" she said, her four-year-old lisp still very evident in her voice "Are you goin' to die?"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

"Who told you that?" she asked, patting Lissa's hair fondly.

"No one. I heard Daddy talking to Mummy. Why are you goin' to die?"

"Well, Lissy," Hermione said, blinking rapidly to keep back tears "It's so I can watch over you and be your guardian angel."

"Is that all? But I'll miss you."

"I'll always be there, Lissy. You just won't be able to see me. And, every night, before you go to bed, I'll come give you a hug and some angel kisses to give you good dreams. And, if I die, I can see all my friends again." Lissa hung her head.

"I like angel kisses, but I like you more, Granma. Please don't die. Do you love your friends more than you love me?"

"Little Lissy, I could never love anyone more than I love you. Do you want me to tell you a story?"

"Yes!" Lissa said eagerly, her teary eyes lighting up.

"Well, once upon a time" Hermione began, scooping Lissa onto her lap "There was a little boy called Harry Potter…"

She was interrupted suddenly by a small sneeze from behind the door. Hermione grinned at Lissa.

"Come in, then" she called "There's no use skulking behind that door all day."

The door swung open, and in walked three of Hermione's other grandchildren, Connor, Braxie and Mo.

Connor walked over to Hermione. He was fifteen, and very much like Percy Weasley.

"Why are you telling Lissa what's happening?" he asked protectively "She's just four." Hermione looked at him sadly.

Braxie, the only squib in the family, whacked Connor on the arm.

"Granma's dying, Connor, and you're worried about _Lissie?_"

"Yes, I'm worried about Lissie!" Connor defended himself "We've got to do this right! We can't just throw all this information on her!"

"Lissie's tough!" Braxie said "Tougher than you, I bet! I saw you sobbing like someone had cast Aguamenti on your eyes when you found out!" Connor's face turned red, then purple.

"Well, at least we know it wasn't you who cast it!" he retaliated. Tears sprang to Braxie's eyes, but before she could make a cutting remark in return, Hermione took them both by the wrist and pulled them into chairs on either side of her.

"No fighting, you two!" she said "You do enough of that as it is. I was just getting round to telling Lissie a story. Would you two like to stay and listen, or would you like to continue your argument elsewhere?"

"Is it the story of how you met Granpa?" Conner asked "Cause I've heard that one."

"Is it the one where you were petrified by a basilisk?" Braxie said "Cause I've heard that one too."

"Well, yes and no" Hermione said "Have you ever heard of Harry Potter?"

"No" said Connor

"Nope" said Braxie

"Nuh-uh" said Lissie

"Yes" said Mo. Everyone looked at him. This one word was a shock to the four of them, for Mo almost never spoke. He was sixteen years old, almost of age, and in the past six years, he had hardly spoken. He had talked almost nonstop when he was a child, and it was a speculation in the family that he had exhausted all the words he had in him.

"Would you like to tell them?" Hermione asked. Mo shook his head, his mouth locked tight shut.

"Well, a long, long time ago, back when I was just a little girl, if you can believe it, there was a little boy going on the train to Hogwarts. The first time I ever met him, I'm afraid I was rather bossy. I repaired his glasses for him, and told your Granpa that he couldn't do magic very well, and had a dirty nose." Lissa interrupted Hermione with a laugh.

"We became friends one night when a mountain troll escaped into the school. Now, I was hiding in the bathroom, crying, because your Granpa was making fun of me…"

When the story was over, everyone looked half asleep. Hermione had concluded her story with a series of yawns, and Lissa, as soon as she had found out how the story had ended, had dropped off to sleep in Hermione's lap.

"I wonder," Braxie said sleepily "How everything would have gone if Harry had won."

"He did win" Hermione said "In the end. Even after he died, he never left us. In the same way that after I die, I'll never leave you."

"You won't die, Granma" Braxie said, curling her arms around her legs "You'll pull through. I can feel it." And one by one, they all drifted off to sleep.

She died that night, plain and simple. Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic. Nobody knew she'd gone until they tried to rouse her the next morning. She looked in death as though she slept, her eyes lightly closed, a peaceful smile on her face, her hands folded on her lap.

Harry knew she would be up in the afterlife now, but he couldn't bring himself to go back. Just a few more minutes down here. It felt…disrespectful… somehow, to leave Ron and the kids to grieve alone.

As soon as Connor had run out of the room to inform the rest of the household that their Granma had passed away, Lissie had picked herself up from the floor, where she had tumbled in the night, and went over to touch Hermione's hand. It was still and cold, but Lissie clasped it anyway, and kissed Hermione's forehead.

"Love you Granma," she whispered.

"I love you too" The whisper came from behind Harry, who jumped and whirled around, to see Hermione, old and wrinkled, practically a carbon copy of the body in the chair, standing behind him. Her eyes were full of tears, but she was smiling. Her gaze shifted to Harry.

"They told me you'd be here," she said, moving to hug him. Harry hugged her back. He had wondered if it would feel odd to hug an old woman, but as her arms wrapped around his back, he realised that the Hermione behind that hug hadn't changed. It was still the same as when they were both teenagers. Hermione just looked a little different.

"You know" she said to him thoughtfully "When we were younger, and our entire lives were lived on the brink of death, it was always a violent thing, unpleasant. We never thought of death as something peaceful, but it is. I suppose in your case it was different. But when you're old, like me, you just have to know the right time to let go."

"Now it's just Ron, Neville and Luna we're waiting for," Harry said "And then the old gang will be back together."

"It'll be nice, won't it" Hermione said distractedly "And then, we don't have to worry about anything. We've got all eternity." Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He was going to have to tell her sooner or later. May as well be now.

"Hermione" he said, and she looked up at him, trustingly, he thought, and calmly, with the wisdom of the many years she had shining out her eyes "Ginny and I, well, we've got this plan…"

**And, I know this story's been going pretty slow lately, but in the next couple of chapters, it should start to really get moving again. **


	19. Onwards

**Here's the next chapter of my story. Only one review for the last chapter, though. I'm quite disappointed with that. Please, please, please, if you read this story, leave a review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you would like to see happen, I don't mind. But when I work so hard on a chapter and I get only one review, it makes me feel like I shouldn't be writing this. I'm not going to hold my story to ransom or anything, but please, help me out a little here. Thank you to LandOfTheLivingSkies for the great reviews. And, without further ado, here is the next chapter. And a disclaimer. **

Harry was stunned. Shocked beyond belief. Hermione had said no. It was incomprehensible. His entire plan revolved around her agreement.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, bewildered.

"Trust me, Harry, it's killing me to have to do this, but I have to wait for Ron and Rose and Sophia and Harry and Little Lissa."

"But, you'll be waiting forever!" he protested "Even when Lissa dies, she'll have grandkids, and her grandkids will have grandkids!"

"I'll know when it's time." Hermione said placidly "It's not time yet."

"Well, we'll stick around until Ron comes." Harry said, hoping that her mind would change with time "Let's go back. Have you seen my Mum and Dad?"

Ginny, upon hearing of Hermione's refusal, looked crestfallen.

"Hermione, please. You have to come." she begged "You're the smartest one of us. You might be the one who gets us to that well alive."

"Now that's just a bad attempt at flattery" Hermione said "You and Harry are smart enough, and you said Lily, James and a few more might be interested in coming. You'll be just fine." Ginny sighed, but let the matter rest for the moment. Hopefully, Hermione would have enough time to mull things over between now and the time when Ron arrived.

But now that the prospect of departing was close enough for them to be able to consider, Harry and Ginny spent a lot of time planning. There were a few dozen books stacked in Harry's room that might contain even a few words on the well. Ginny had taken it upon herself to hunt down and talk to anyone who might know even a snippet of information about it. Lily was already thinking of what they would need to take, what obstacles they might encounter and what route they would need to take to ensure that they got there as quickly as possible with the minimum amount of missing limbs. James and Sirius, as was usual with them, were doing nothing productive.

They took it in shifts to keep an eye on the living. Harry, now more than ever, could see a complicated web of children, grandchildren and relatives growing. There would always be someone who wanted to wait for someone else. Harry could see that if he ever wanted to leave, he would have to leave without Hermione. He didn't like the thought, but he knew it was necessary.

Ron, Neville and Luna were all over 90 years old. They had to die soon. Harry felt like a terrible person for wishing it, but truth be told, he was anxious for _something _to happen.

Lily had discovered a map to the well. It was faded, yellowing and torn, granted, but the inked-in picture of the well was still visible, as was the route traced across the paper in red. The trail looked like blood. Harry spent many hours staring blindly at it, wondering how it would feel to be reborn. He could be any ethnicity, any gender, a muggle, a wizard, a witch, a centaur, anything. In his new life, he could hear the name Harry Potter and not even turn his head. Ginny could be a shadowy stranger in another body. Had he really thought this through enough? But, as much as he tried to convince himself that to stay in the afterlife was best, the more he realized that he needed to move on. It was best for him, best for his family.

When Ron, Neville and Luna arrived, the world was illuminated in red. Their silhouettes, meandering over the rise in the street, were like dark angels returning home. Nobody saw them coming.

And in their own way, the light touch of Ron's hand on Hermione's shoulder, the soft creak of the door as Neville pushed it slowly open and the gentle lilt of Luna's voice as she whispered a greeting were the happiest moments they had experienced since the trail of death amongst them had begun.

The three refused to tell Harry and the rest how they had died.

"The point is, we're all together now," Luna had told them in a firm voice. And none of them wanted to go to the well.

"You can't be serious." Harry demanded in frustration.

"We are. Absolutely." Ron returned "You saw Lissa, and how sweet she is. God, it would kill me to leave her. Harry, you can do this without us, and besides, we'll come join you in a few years."

"Ten" Hermione interjected "We'll join you in ten years. Lissa will be old enough by then for us to leave her. Someone will be here to pass the message on. Count on it."

Their goodbyes were tearful. The party who was leaving included Harry, Ginny, Lily, James, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks.

They could hardly bear to walk out the door. It was the most heart-wrenching thing any of them had ever had to do, to part. Hands were wrung, cheeks were kissed, promises were made.

"See you in ten years" Hermione whispered.

"In ten years" Harry assured.

"Be safe"

"Be strong."

And they parted, tears streaked down their faces. Each of them carried a large backpack over their shoulders, and Harry had the map safely tucked away in his pocket.

When they stepped through the door, the first step on their journey to a new life, they found themselves in the little wooden doorway of a church. Ivy was growing over their heads and twining around two pillars of dirty white marble, and a beautiful little rose garden was spread out before them, the little buds just beginning to bloom, revealing beautiful shades of scarlet and white.

The panelled doors of the church were propped open, allowing them a look at the stained glass windows, filtering the sunlight onto the grey concrete floors and polished wooden pews. It was deserted except for a little girl and her mother taking a stroll along the opposite end of the rose garden. If this was to be the last of civilization they saw in death, then it was certainly not a disappointment. A beautiful little white butterfly fluttered onto Lily's shoulder. She laughed and held up her finger for it to climb onto.

Harry broke the stem of a lovely white rose, stripped away the thorns and handed it to Ginny.

"The last gift I'll give you" he said, tucking it behind her ear "It's beautiful. It suits you."

"Let's go" James said "No sense stalling." And the group of the trooped out the rusty gate that was the exit to the rose garden. The church lay right on the very edge of a quaint little town, the type with cobbled streets and thatched roofs and little baker's boys running around with footballs. Behind them lay a thick forest with sunlight piercing through the leafy canopy and illuminating little patches on the mossy ground. The sky above was a perfect blue, with little puffy clouds drifting aimlessly across it. Off in the distance, Harry could see snow-capped mountains, hills, valleys and forests. They would traverse all of them in due course. This little town was the first point on the map, and the trail led them directly into the forest.

"Onwards!" Sirius shouted melodramatically "Onwards on our noble quest! If we should perish…"

"We're not going to perish" Tonks said, taking him by the elbow and steering him into the forest "We're already dead. And, believe it or not, in the twenty-first century, we don't talk like that."

"Fine" Sirius grumbled "If you want to take this seriously…"

It was like a little paradise in that forest.

"I keep expecting to see Bambi" Lily laughed "It's so pretty"

"What's Bambi?" Ginny asked.

The glorious forest soon petered out however, rapidly morphing into a shadowy wood with twisted trees, their branches hanging across the path like gnarled fingers, scratching the clothes and skin of the travelers as they passed through them. There were owls perched in the hollows of the trunks, their glowing yellow eyes observing them silently. Occasionally, a cluster of bats would be startled awake by their passing and would flap chaotically around them. It was an eerie forest, full of frights and, looking at their map by the light of Lumos, Harry could see that this was not the most difficult obstacle they would have to overcome. The map did not detail exactly what challenges lay ahead, but some of the lines, scratched ferociously into the yellowing parchment with an angry hand, pretty much yelled at the observer to stay away.

Soon, the sky above darkened to a stormy black-purple. The clouds snaked into a whirlpool, and the wind whipped in a chilly gale. Harry pulled his jacket tighter about his shoulders. Ginny buried her chin deep inside her scarf. The trees creaked mournfully with each gust, threatening to topple over. One could not help but have the sense that there was a powerful force just playing with them, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot a bolt of lightning at them.

"Should we stop and sleep here?" Lily asked, not looking as if this was an idea she particularly agreed with "There's plenty of flat ground to pitch the tents."

Lupin shook his head.

"Let's keep going. If we're still in this forest after it gets too dark to keep going, then we'll set up the tent."

The wind howled, the trees moaned, the owls in the trees stared at them with a terrifying intensity, and the seven travelers, wrapped up in their jackets, scarves and woolly hats walked, hunched against the frigid gale and bowed to the cold, their destiny spread out before them, the well waiting for them at the end.

**C'mon. Write in that little box down there. You know you want to. Just there. l**

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	20. Riddle

**Hello, everybody! Thanks for all the fantastic reviews. You guys are awesome! I'm guesstimating that there will be about two or three more chapters of this story, so enjoy! Review, review, review! **

The forest seemed to extend forever, and they were still traipsing through it when the sky was overtaken by black. As much as they were averse to sleeping in that terrifying place, they could hardly see the nose in front of their faces and it was all they could do to pitch their tents.

Despite their best efforts to keep the tent warm, Harry's teeth chattered all night. He swore he could see human-shaped shadows moving outside their tent, and gentle breathing coming from near the doorway.

As soon as the sun had risen above the mountain tops, they were off, bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. Yet it was still close to midday before they passed the last of the gnarled trees and found themselves in a large expanse of grass and wheat. The dried and brittle stalks were waist height and scratched the group's legs and hands. They were forced to cram their scarves and jackets into their backpacks as the sun scorched overhead. Looking over his shoulder, Harry saw the dark forest, still overshadowed by an ominous purple storm cloud. Up ahead, he saw torrential rain falling in buckets on a gloomy marsh. There was something insanely off about this weather. At least for now, the terrain wasn't tough.

It was a pleasant walk, actually, if you could ignore the hairy black spiders clinging to the sides of the wheat stalks. There was a mild breeze and a few leafy trees scattered here and there that provided shade. But one look up ahead and Harry was knew they shouldn't take this for granted.

They cleared a large patch in the wheat and pitched their tents right on the edge of the field. Mere metres away lay the marsh, sodden with rain. They all slept slightly more peacefully that night, and the sound of cicadas was very comforting.

Morning came again, and they all were reluctant to troop into that marsh. They sunk into the sludge up to their knees with every step and the rain rendered their clothes next to useless and their hair a sodden mess.

There was no way they could ever have erected their tent in that place, so they were forced to keep on walking and walking, their legs almost giving out several times. The rain was constant and seemed to be enchanted, for no matter how many 'Impervius' charms they cast, it wouldn't stay away.

When they reached the end of the marsh, almost two days later, all seven of them collapsed in a heap. They were exhausted, two days of walking, of pulling their feet out of knee-deep mud with each step. There wasn't a single dry patch left on any of them.

Unaware of their surroundings, unaware of the fact that they were unprotected, soaking and vulnerable, they were asleep within minutes on the edge of the marsh, on the dusty dirt path.

Harry woke up to a creature that was somewhere between a Cornish Pixie and a squirrel clawing at his face. He swatted it away, annoyed to have been woken up from his hard-earned sleep. The creature scurried away and up a tree, leaving Harry to awaken himself properly and inspect his surroundings. The other six were still asleep, snuggled up to either each other or their damp backpacks for warmth. Ginny's head had been resting on Harry's stomach, and when he displaced it, she tossed in her sleep, looking for another comfortable place to lay it. Ahead of them lay a much nicer looking forest, not as nice as the first one they had crossed, but certainly nicer than the second. He could see a few of those Pixie Squirrels swinging through the trees and somebody had taken time to construct a path. Scaling a tree to peer over the treetops, he could see that the forest extended for about a day's walk. Beyond the forest, the map said there was an enormous river, a craggy cliff face and network of caves to navigate through before they reached the well. He descended the tree trunk and silently unzipped his backpack. Most of the items in there were dry. It was Lily's ingenuous idea to use Muggle pack liners and those, unlike the numerous 'Impervius' charms they had cast, had kept the contents safe. He pulled out a spare change of clothes and hung the soaking ones out to dry. The shirt was ruined, he decided, but he might be able to salvage the pants. He pulled out a bag full of cake and pasties and helped himself to a square. He was ravenous. Sirius, lying near Harry, sniffed in his sleep and sat bolt upright.

"Where's the food?" he shouted, before catching sight of Harry with a slice of cake hovering near his mouth.

"Thanks for offering to share" he grumbled, diving for the bag. The others, awakened by Sirius's shout, were stirring and bumping into each other as they tried to shake off sleep. Tonks' hair changed from spiky purple to curly brown and back as she tried to orient herself. The six were bedraggled and muddy, with knotted hair and torn clothing, but they sprang up immediately as the saw Harry and Sirius taking enormous bites out of pieces of cake. Food had never tasted so good.

Presently, they were recovered enough to continue on their way. They all wore fresh clothes, and were rested and fed sufficiently. They began to make their way through the forest, walking lazily, relishing the easy journey and the absence of rain and mud. It was obvious that people had been here before them. Sections of bush had been beaten down, names and dates had been carved onto trees and they could see little artifacts scattered pell-mell through the remains of campsites. They had just begun to settle into a comfortable pace when they froze. Concealed in a cluster of bushes, Harry could have sworn he saw a pair of small, dark eyes glaring at them.

"Do you see that?" he whispered. Ginny could only nod dumbly. The eyes blinked once. Lupin and Tonks crept forwards, wands drawn, before tearing the bushes aside, revealing a small figure, nine or ten at the most, with jet-black hair, thin arms and legs and pale skin. He wore thin trousers and a loose shirt. Lupin and Tonks jumped back, startled, and Lily, James and Sirius moved closer to Harry and Ginny. All of them had their wands directed straight at the boy's chest.

The boy blinked repeatedly, shocked at this sudden and unexpected confrontation, his front teeth gnawing slightly on his lower lip.

Harry had known that one day he must come into contact with this boy, but he had never dreamt it would be like this. Ginny broke the silence, her face pallid, but her eyes determined.

"Tom?" she asked, aghast "Tom Riddle?"

The boy opened his mouth as if to speak. When no words came out, he took a deep breath and tried again.

"I…I don't know," he stammered "I could be. I don't remember." He sounded childish, unsure, and nothing like the cruel, calculating voice of Voldemort.

"You…you don't remember?" Ginny asked, puzzled "You don't know who you are? You don't know what you've done?"

"I've lived in this forest for as long as I can remember" the boy said, reaching up to rub his neck "Since I was little. Forever, I think." His voice was proud, a little formal, exactly like the voice of the Tom Riddle Harry had heard in Dumbledore's pensieve when he was sixteen.

"You don't remember…" Ginny seemed to be struggling with her sentence "You don't remember…You don't know anything about Voldemort?"

"Voldemort?" the boy asked, genuinely confused "Who's Voldemort?"

Lily had it sussed in an instant.

"It's to do with Horcruxes!" she whispered "Harry said a while ago that when he went to the middle-world, he saw Voldemort as a baby! When Tom came here, he must have started as an infant and grown up over time as Voldemort's soul regenerated itself, but it happened really slowly, because it was so damaged. So, this Tom Riddle is a completely new person, and he won't remember a thing!"

They were at a loss for what to do after Lily made that discovery. They stood staring, mouths agape at the little boy, unable to believe who he was and what he had done. James broke the silence.

"So," he said "What to do now?"

"Leave him here" Sirius shrugged "We don't have any responsibility for him! He's _Voldemort!"_ The last word was mouthed.

"He's just little!" Lily protested indignantly "We can't just leave him alone in a forest."

"Why not?" Sirius argued "He's lived here his whole life."

"We could take him to the well with us" Tonks interjected "Before he becomes old enough to turn evil here."

"And subject the mortal world to him?" James said in disgust "That's exactly what we went to all that trouble to _stop _happening!"

"If he's had a life here without being evil," Lupin said thoughtfully "Maybe he might start to learn from his mistakes in the next life."

"Let's put it to a vote" Ginny said decidedly "All in favour of taking Tom to the well?"

Lupin, Tonks, Lily and Ginny raised their hands.

"Majority rules. Tom comes with us." Ginny said in such a tone that nobody dared to argue.

And so, Tom Riddle was added to their group. `


	21. Mad

**Hello again! Sorry for the delay, but my computer broke for a week. I don't know how I'm still alive, but here's the next chapter. Enjoy! Disclaimer. **

They soon left the forest far behind them. It was an odd journey, now that a younger Voldemort was involved. The person they'd fought so hard to destroy was now their ally. This was unsettling for Harry, who, unable to shake the terrible memories that Voldemort had left him with, gave little Tom a wide berth.

They were fast approaching a river, a river foaming with white water that crashed and pounded over jagged rocks. Tom was sulky, staying at the back of the group and trying to comprehend his situation. To be forced to follow a group of strangers who seemed intent on taking him to a place he'd never heard of was a terrifying thing for him, not to mention the fact that they kept referring to him as 'Voldemort', a name he'd never heard of in his life.

They camped out a few metres from the bank of the river. As the darkness closed in around them, Harry felt a strange constricting sensation in his chest, but he dismissed it. He was nervous, that was all, having Tom so close and the well fast approaching.

As he lay down on the rocky ground, he felt a sensation similar to cold fingers running up and down his spine. It was nothing, he told himself, just the night wind coming off the river.

And then, as his mind started to wander into sleep, he knew that something was seriously wrong. He tried to pull himself out of slumber, but he failed. It had too tight a hold on him. He was sucked deeper and deeper into a whirling abyss, full of faces, memories, flashes of light.

First of all, he heard his mum's scream. The same scream that he had heard each time the dementors got too close. This was followed by James's shout.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" Hermione's screams as Bellatrix tortured her, Ron hollering her name. The six of his friend locked up in Voldemort's cellar. Everything was surrounded with a grey mist that made the images look spooky and surreal. He needed to go see the mortal world, or else all those moments would be lived again. If he didn't, awful things would happen, he just knew it. Voldemort's face swum before him, morphing hideously with young Tom Riddle's. Those scarlet eyes imprinted into a child's face and then his own face. Next, he saw the corpses of all the people he had ever loved spread out before him, their scarlet eyes wide and staring, their skin taut and pale. There was Dumbledore, one of his withered hands resting on…the pensieve! Harry tried to run to it, knowing it would fulfil his desires to see the mortal world once more, but hands, scabbed, grey and slimy pulled him back and a taunting laugh echoed in his ears.

With a splintering noise like bones snapping, thick tendrils of Devil's Snare erupted from the ground beneath his feet, twining themselves around his legs like pythons, and this time, relaxing would not help him to escape. Blood seeped from his fingers as he clawed at the coils, and the blood twisted into faces which formed and melted and formed again in rapid succession. He was being pulled into the soil; his head was rapidly disappearing beneath the surface. He had not time to utter one final cry before his head was sucked under. And he woke up.

He didn't dare to open his eyes. He knew that if he did, he would see those corpses, those horrible, rotting corpses, lying on the ground in front of him. He was aware that he was drenched, both in sweat and water. His hands, his nose and his feet were numb, giving him the impression that he had been both cold and wet for a long period of time. He shuddered and tried to flex his fingers.

"He's awake" someone sighed – Ginny, Harry deduced, after a moment's thought. Her tone was saturated with relief. How long had he been out? She shook his shoulders, choking on her laughs of relief as she did so.

"Harry, Harry" she babbled, more to herself than anyone else "Are you okay? You had us so worried. You were tossing and turning and yelling. Everyone's been really panicked."

"Go get him a blanket" he heard Lily hiss and within a few seconds, he felt a rug of some sorts draped over his shoulders. He felt his racing heart calm as he realised that what he had experienced moments prior was merely a dream and felt encouraged enough to let his eyes flicker open.

His groggy mind and shaky body couldn't cope with what happened next. His leap backwards was enough to tip his centre of balance dramatically, and he crashed sideways, his vision spinning. But he persisted in scrambling backwards, crashing through undergrowth and falling hard against trees.

Their eyes. Red. All so red. Ginny was smiling, but her eyes were flashing cruelly, like Voldemort's used to do. And the trees, blood leaking from their branches, dribbling down their trunks and pooling on the ground. Ginny was running after him, that blood coating her hands, those eyes gleaming. She bent down to take his hand, but he fended her off.

"No!" he shouted, "Stay away from me!"

She looked taken aback, but persisted in trying to make contact with him. She was getting that blood all over him! It smelled sickly sweet, like dying flowers.

"Go away!" he yelled "Don't touch me!" He fumbled for his wand and directed it at Ginny's heart.

"I'm not bluffing! I'll fight you!" Her eyes widened with worry and terror. Worry! Nobody with those eyes was capable of feeling worry!

And then his arms were restrained, pinioned behind his back. His wand was knocked from his hands. He struggled and kicked, but to no avail. Those arms were strong.

There were gasps all around from those people- or were they even people?- who he had considered friends. Who was it who was restraining him? He tried to twist his head to see, but he was held too tightly. But then a voice spoke, and there was no denying who it was.

"Everybody hold still." Snape demanded, cool and sharp as usual "No sense getting _Mr Potter _here even more worked up than he already is."

The clearing was silent, except for the sounds of Harry's struggles. It was like a massive staring match, with everybody staring at Snape and Snape glaring at everybody.

"Severus?" Lily choked, hooking her hand around James's elbow for support "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore was quite insistent I follow you," he said, the half-truth only just evident in his tone "He seemed to think that something unpleasant might occur. Something like _this._" He seemed surprisingly calm, considering he was restraining a thrashing 17 year old.

"What's wrong with him?" Sirius asked, his hatred for Snape waning in comparison to the crisis at hand.

"What Dumbledore has always warned about. What Potter here was too stupid to listen to. What you've tried to hold at bay for decades."

"Tell us!" Lily begged, on the verge of tears.

"First" Snape said, after a particularly vicious strike from Harry "I think we'd best get Potter restrained properly."

"You mean…tie him up?" Ginny gasped incredulously.

"Yes, Miss Weasley, I mean tie him up. Or would you rather he breaks free and runs off, like he nearly succeeded in doing minutes ago before I stepped in?"

It had taken many tries to properly secure him. Along with his madness, Harry seemed to have acquired extraordinary strength, and he nearly succeeded in breaking free several times. Using lengths of rope they had brought in case scaling cliffs became necessary, they bound him to a tree so securely that not even Houdini himself could have weaselled out. Ginny insisted on sitting close to him and comforting him, despite his many efforts to fight her off.

"It's like…what's that Muggle thing?...alcohol withdrawal." Snape explained, pacing – he had refused a seat "For all those decades, Potter has been fine, because he has had regular access to the pensieve, which quenches his desire to return, and thus holds off the madness. When he lost the ability to use the pensieve, his desire just built up and built up, largely unnoticeable, then exploded in one big outburst, like tonight."

"So we shouldn't have left after all!" James cried, throwing himself to the ground in frustration.

"Stop being melodramatic, Potter" Snape snapped "You were perfectly right to leave when you did. You see, like alcohol, you can't live without it, but it kills you if you use it for long periods. Given a few more years, this exact thing would have happened. There was never any way to win. Of course, if Potter had any degree of intelligence, he would never have gotten himself into this predicament in the first place."

"So, what do we do now?" Lupin said quietly.

"Now," Snape said, all the superiority gone from his voice "We get Potter to this well as fast as humanly possible."


	22. Ended

**Here's the penultimate chapter in my story. Please review...and standard disclaimer. I shouldn't be too long with the last chapter. Hope you guys enjoy.**

What were they doing? They had tied him up! Tied him to a tree that was constantly dripping blood from the branches onto his head. He was saturated in the stuff. Breathing was an enormous effort. And all those people - had he really once gone with them willingly?- calling him mad. _Mad! _The world was mad, not him.

He had defeated the Dark Lord and escaped, but now, everything was going wrong. He was tied up, he was wandless, there was nobody to come to his aid, for the people he thought would rescue him were the ones holding him captive.

Now, what was this? They were untying him! They were talking about a long walk ahead of them. He wasn't going anywhere with them! He fought and struggled, but to no avail. Using their wands, they tied his arms and looped the other ends of the ropes around the wrists of James and Sirius.

"I didn't want to have to say goodbye like this," he heard Ginny sobbing from behind them.

"There, there" Lily comforted, barely restraining tears herself "It's all right. It's all right."

Harry couldn't believe the lie. Everything was not all right! He was tied up, captive! He'd never get to the well now.

The next obstacle the group had to cross was the raging river. It would have been hard enough before, but now, with three of them tied together and one straining against them, it was almost impossible. The river, it seemed, like the rain, was impervious to the magic they cast, so they used several lengths of rope to tie themselves together. Tom Riddle was lagging near the back, eyeing the rope around his waist doubtfully. He contemplated running away. But they had that boy, Harry, tied up and were dragging him along by force. Would they do the same to him if he didn't cooperate?

The crossing of the river was an enormously difficult one. The strongest of them, James and Sirius, crossed first, bracing themselves against each other to try and keep balance. Once they had finally made it across, with many near-slips, they tied the rope securely to a tree on the other side, making a kind of rope bridge across the river. Getting Harry across was another matter. In his eyes, it was a twisting mass of vipers and giant spiders, swept along in a cascade of blood. They hoisted him up to the rope bridge, where he clung tightly, terrified of falling into the death trap that lay below. James and Sirius hid behind trees and the other jumped and shouted on the other side so that Harry swung himself across, hoping for freedom once he reached the other side.

Of course, it was not to be, and James and Sirius recaptured him instantaneously.

The dense thicket of trees that lay just beyond the edge of the river blocked their view of what lay ahead. The map said that there lay a sheer cliff face and there was one…to an extent. Was it an earthquake, or was it magical forces? Whatever the case, the cliff had crumbled, a landslide of rock tumbling all the way to the ground. Would it be easier to descend than a sheer cliff face would have been?

Sirius laid one of his feet onto the slope, and immediately sent a handful of small rocks clattering down.

"It's going to be incredibly slippery" he warned "Unstable. We'll be falling the whole way down."

"That's okay." Lily said uncertainly "It's like Severus said years ago, when he needed that vial of blood. You can't be physically harmed here unless you want it. We'll be fine."

"Well…" Sirius mumbled "Since I'm the only one who's not totally evil" with a glare at Snape "and not partnered up, I guess it's my duty to be the guinea pig in this little experiment." He raised his hand to his forehead in a little salute and let himself drop backwards off the edge of the cliff. Ginny screamed and ran to the edge, just in time to see Sirius tumbling down the rocky slope, head over heels, head over heels, scattering stones wherever he landed. Finally, he came on an unsteady landing, sprawled in an awkward position on the floor, not moving.

"Sirius!" Ginny screamed, her voice reverberating everywhere "Sirius!"

"Fine…fine" his voice echoed back "Ahead…go…ahead"

"Is it really safe?" Lily whispered.

"You heard Sirius" James said, running to the edge "It'll be fine!" And spreading his arms like wings, he leapt off the cliff, plummeting like an eagle. He landed beside Sirius, looking dizzy but otherwise unhurt. Tonks led Tom Riddle, who looked apprehensive at least at the thought of jumping off a cliff. Snape went next, managing to look stately and haughty, even as he plunged. And Lupin, Lily and Ginny took charge of Harry. In Harry's eyes, each rock was a skull, still with fragments of flesh and blood clinging grotesquely to it, scattered among various other bones. The soil underneath broiled and swirled, giving the impression that the dead were about to rise from their graves. There was no way Harry was jumping into that. They were trying to kill him, surely.

"C'mon Harry. There's nothing down there. Just close your eyes and jump with us." Lily said calmly. It was a hideous lie! That scarlet-eyed woman who claimed to be his mother was trying to convince him to jump to his death. He wouldn't do it!

"Come on, Harry" Lupin said firmly, guiding him by the shoulders to the edge of the cliff-face. Ginny and Lily took a hand each. And with one enormous pull, they jumped. Harry's feet scrabbled uselessly in empty air for a moment, before all four of them dropped together, tumbling over each other, rolling, their faces smashing into the ground, their legs bending underneath them. But there was no pain. Snape had been right on that count. But each time they struck the ground, Harry could see skeletal arms reaching up, reaching up to grab his legs, his arms, his throat. He fought to throw off the arms of his 'friends' that were still clinging tightly onto him. And then, it was over. The group of them lay, shaken and dizzy on the rocky ground, the world tipping and spinning around them.

While everyone was recovering from the fall, Harry saw a chance to escape. He threw himself to his feet, the sudden motion making his vision black out for a few seconds. Ignoring this, he threw himself forward, seeing writhing snakes tearing flesh from bodies in the dark, and stumbled over the rocks, scrambled over boulders and pushed his way past trees. He heard _their _voices screaming his name, yelling at the others to go catch him, but he was too fast for them. And then, just as his vision cleared, he was falling, falling, through icy blackness. The fall lasted for a mere second, hardly even that. He had only fallen a few feet, but it was still enough to knock the wind out of him, as he landed with a bone-bruising thud on a flat expanse of freezing cold rock. His breath, visible as a cloud of fog, drifted in front of him, the only thing he could see in that enveloping darkness.

He heard rustling and ghostly moans from the far in front of him, and saw his breath morphing into writhing tendrils that reached for him. He stumbled backwards until he found a wall and, with his back pressed to it, he swatted at the mist, only succeeding in making it dance and weave around his hands. Suddenly, a bright light filled the area, blinding Harry so much that he had to throw his hands up to shield his eyes.

"Oh, thank God!" he heard Lupin's voice exclaim, and the next minute, there he was, scarlet eyes gleaming, holding a lit wand aloft. Harry couldn't talk, he was breathing so hard. Suddenly, they all dropped from a hole in the roof and landed beside Lupin. They all looked worried and their clothes were torn from the fall, but nobody sported any cuts or bruises or broken bones.

"Where are we?" Tonks asked, turning around to face a long tunnel that extended into the blackness. Ginny had the map clutched in her hand, but she didn't need to open it to voice her reply

"This" she said quietly "Is where the well is."

The reaction to her statement was dead silence. Even Harry didn't dare to try and move. It was as though, even in the state he was in, he understood the significance of those words. Everybody did. This was the last leg in their journey, the last time they would be together as themselves.

"How long is this tunnel?" Lily whispered.

"Not long." Ginny said "This cave opens into an underground clearing just beyond where we can see. Not long at all."

They couldn't bear to tie Harry up for this last section. Ginny and Lily held his hands, and the others, all except Snape and Tom Riddle, joined in. They began to see the first signs of the underground clearing within the first few steps. Little patches of grass and flowers springing from solid rock, butterflies fluttering over their heads, breaths of a warm summer breeze. And then, so suddenly it made them skid to a halt, there they were. The well, ivy climbing up its sides, surrounded by flowers and red and white mushrooms and long blades of grass. Just above their heads was the cave ceiling, but a lovely, light green moss had grown over it. There were butterflies and fairies and chrysalises everywhere. The well was dead centre. They could see something glistening inside, but it didn't look like water. They approached it slowly.

"It's so…beautiful" Lily said, trying to make light of the situation. But, as they got closer, Harry started fighting them, his worst attack yet. Whatever was glistening inside the well was full of horrific images. All his friends, tortured and broken, the flesh ripped from their bones. Their faces were peeling back, revealing rotting and blackened skulls underneath, pinpoints of red light in their eye sockets. They were laughing, an eerie, haunting laugh that chilled Harry to his core.

"Bring him closer" he heard Snape murmur, and suddenly the hands were dragging him forward. It physically hurt to be close to that well and Harry resisted with all his might. Then, he saw his father come forward, with a bucket full of that awful substance. With one quick flick, Harry was doused. It felt like the flesh was melting from his bones, like the very essence that was him was dissolving in acid. And then, just like that, the feeling was gone. He looked around. The eyes of the people standing around him were no longer scarlet. Lily's were green, Ginny's were brown, Snape's were cold and black. He didn't feel afraid any more. Slowly, he stood up. They were all watching him with bated breath.

"Ginny?" he asked "What's going on?"

Ginny screamed and lunged at him, enfolding him in a hug that nearly choked him.

"A brief reprieve" Snape said coolly "The water in that well is partially comprised of pensieve potion. I suggest we get this over and done with quickly."

"Okay." Ginny said, dragging Harry over to sit on the lip of the well "I'm so glad you're back. It was so hard, coming all the way here, and thinking that I may never get to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry" Harry apologized "For getting us into this mess in the first place. And I know that when we're born again, we'll be together. It can't be otherwise, what with all we've been through." Suddenly, as they she was about to say something more, Ginny's eyes flashed scarlet. Harry gasped. "It's wearing off!" He gulped down his panic. He still had a few more seconds.

"Already?"

"We've got to go now" Harry said, pulling himself into a standing position "I wish more than anything we didn't have to, but we do."

"I love you, Harry"

"I love you so much, Ginny. More than words. Mum, Dad, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks….I love you all. See you on the other side."

"We love you too, Harry." Lily said sadly "You're the best son we could ever have possibly had, and we're so proud of you."

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

"Ready"

"One, two, three…"

And, they clung together, so tightly that not Merlin himself could have separated them, and jumped.


	23. Epilogue

**Wow. Here's the final chapter. I actually didn't think I would write it so quickly, but here it is. Not to make this sound like an Oscar Speech, but I'd like to thank all my brilliant reviewers (yes, even the critics) for actually taking time to read and review this piece of writing my brain has randomly churned out. After you've read this chapter, please review. After all, it's the last time you're going to get to. See if you can pick which character is which. Shouldn't be too hard, I hope. And now...I must find something else to write. Au revior. **

She was falling, falling, falling. The blackness around her seemed to choke her, it all seemed so terrifying. There was nothing beneath her, she could feel that. But in front of her, there was a dancing red flame, so vivid in the darkness. It made her feel comforted, but she didn't know why. She was gripping tight to…she didn't know what. She only knew that if she ever let go, she'd be lost forever. The only thing to do was to brace herself for whatever came next. And what came next was a voice, a familiar voice, echoing out of the darkness.

"Heather! Heather! Will you wake up?"

Heather was jolted awake from her dream by Mr Speare, the maths teacher. He was glaring at her, perhaps wondering whether to give her a detention.

She'd had that dream again. She had it all the time. She didn't know what it meant or what was happening in it, but she had a feeling it had some significance. But to what, she couldn't say.

"Heather, that's the third time this week you've fallen asleep in my class!" Mr Speare scolded "What am I going to do with you? What are you going to do in high school?"

"I don't know" Heather shrugged. She had heard this speech enough times before.

Before Mr Speare could say anything more, Tiffany, the blonde-haired bully in her class raised her hand.

"Maybe you _should _give her a detention, sir" she simpered, shooting Heather a smug little smirk "After all, it's really not fair on the rest of us if our class gets disrupted this way."

"She does have a point, Heather" Mr Speare sighed "It's not fair on everyone else. I'd like you to write an apology letter to the class tonight, and read it out tomorrow."

"But…" Heather began to protest.

"That's enough! Not another word. And try to stay awake until the end of the lesson, or I will give you a detention."

At interval, Heather and some of her friends were sitting behind the library eating their food and talking.

"I hate Mr Speare!" Heather complained "Do you think he just singles me out?"

"Well, you were the only one sleeping," put in Heather's best friend, Logan, unhelpfully.

"Well, Mr Speare's a jerk! They should have fired him long ago…" defended Michael, Heather's boyfriend, wrapping an arm around Heather.

"What if we put Mr Speare and Mr Denton in a boxing ring together? Who'd win?" joked Stephan, Logan's partner in crime.

"Mr Speare, of course" Logan returned "Mr Denton is crazy!"

"Remember what he did when we put that tack on his chair?" Stephen laughed.

"Imagine what would've happened if he'd actually sat on it?" The two collapsed in laughter.

"Guys, I'm trying to concentrate!" Alice said in frustration, looking up from her English homework and glaring at them "Do I dare ask if any of you did it?"

"Nope" the chorused "But we'll copy from you."

"What are you losers doing?" asked Tiffany, appearing from around the corner, followed by her loyal sidekick, Phoebe.

"We're hanging out, being cool" Stephen said, glaring at Tiffany "Unlike what you appear to be doing."

"Well, you're in our way, so move."

"Yeah, move!" echoed Phoebe, flicking her hair.

"Got a problem?" Heather asked, getting to her feet "I'll fight you!"

"Bring it!" Heather pulled up her sleeves. Tiffany examined her nails.

"Guys!" Alice shouted, laying her hand on Heather's shoulder "Don't fight. You'll get in trouble. You've already been stood down once this year!"

"Yeah, you should listen to your friend!" Tiffany sneered "Wouldn't want to get expelled, would we?" And she flounced off, her hair swinging wildly. Phoebe glared and the group and followed suit.

"What jerks!" Michael said angrily "I would've fought them, and nothing Alice could say would stop me!"

"Well, I'm glad it didn't turn into a fight!" Alice said "And you'd better not forget that we've got the twins at our house tonight."

The twins were Charlotte and Zach, only a year old. Zach was already taking an interest in words and books, and Charlotte was a little bit of an airhead, constantly lying on the floor, throwing tantrums and playing with toys.

"I won't forget, but I really wish they didn't have to come! Charlotte cries all the time, and when Zach's in the other room, I keep thinking he's dead because he doesn't cry at all."

"I like having them" Alice mused.

"Well, we all know that. You're so _motherly!_ You even act like our mothers! You make us sit in the library and do our homework if we haven't done it, and if we swear, you tell us off. You're going to be a great mother someday, but could you lay it off a little?" Alice pouted a little, and returned her attention to her homework.

Heather meandered home with Michael. They weren't _dating _dating, but they were best friends, and everyone thought they should go out. But they were only eleven and in middle school. There would be plenty of time for dating in the future. They went their separate ways at the corner of Elder street, where Heather lived.

"See you tomorrow, Michael," she sighed "I'll be busy writing my apology letter for Mr Speare. Fun, fun, fun."

"School sucks" he agreed "I can't wait to get out of there. It's just so _boring_! Who cares about Math and English and Spelling? Anyways, see you later. I need to do that English homework."

"See ya!"

Heather's cat, Crux, met her halfway down the street. Crux was living proof of the statement 'Cats have nine lives'. He'd been hit by cars, fallen off the roof, eaten rat poison, and he was still alive, albeit missing an ear.

"Anything interesting happen today, Crux?" she asked the cat, stroking his neck. He meowed eagerly.

"Well, maybe you had a good day, but I've got to write a stupid apology letter for Mr Speare. Can you believe that Cruxy? And Tiffany and Phoebe are being horrible. Wait a moment, Crux. I've got to check the mail." Heather crouched down and peered into their mailbox.

"Bill…bill…bill…Mum's magazine…ugh, report card…bill. Hold on. What's this?" Her cat rubbed excitedly against her legs.

It was a yellowed letter, heavier than all the others, with a funny looking design on the back, stamped with a red seal. Who used red seals these days? On the front was written:

Miss H. Elliot

10 Elder St

London

Cautiously, she opened the letter, and pulled out a piece of yellowing parchment, scrawled with green ink.

_Dear Miss Elliot, _the letter read

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

**Author's note: I've had a couple of reviews from people saying that they didn't know which character was which, so I decided to post a little note here telling you. If you got them all right, congratulations! **_  
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**Heather was Harry (main character to main character, hope that was obvious), Michael was Ginny (he was Heather's boyfriend), Alice was Lily (wasn't entirely sure what Lily was like as a child, so some of you may have mistaken her for Hermione), Tiffany was Voldemort/Tom Riddle (the bully), Phoebe was Snape (the follower), Stephan and Logan were Sirius and James, respectively (the jokers), Charlotte was Ron (not the brightest), Zach was Hermione (already liking books). Crux the cat was simply a cat, although many of you seemed to want to think he was Harry. I have not included Lupin and Tonks in this, and, if I write a sequel, will introduce them then. Please, tell me if you think a sequel would be worthwhile, because I had honestly not even considered it until some reviewers suggested it. But it sounds intriguing. Let me know.  
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